Truth is Overrated
by LifeBringsMeOnlyTears
Summary: I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated. Sabretooth/OC. Warning: Graphic Scenes
1. Chapter One

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them. The SRU, Danielle Evans, her grandmother, and a few other random characters are mine. Kurt Morgan is the creation of a good friend of mine, but he's given me permission to use him as I please. Thanks Noah!

**Rating:** This story is rated M+ for Mature Audiences only. This story contains Adult Content including vulgar language, drug references and/or usage, suggestive materials, and sexually explicit materials. No children, please.

**Author's Note:** People asked for it, so here it is. The sequel to _Normalcy is Overrated_ is here, and it's here to stay. Follow Dani on her continued journey as a mutant in a land replete with dangers and mystery. The awkward and unsure mutant from Xavier's Institute is all grown up, and she's caught in the middle of one of the greatest, and most dangerous, mysteries her kind has ever faced.

* * *

_"The truth is overrated." - Peter Westerberg  
_

**Truth is Overrated  
**

_**~Chapter One~**_

I crushed the cigarette under my heel as I stepped under the yellow police line and shoved past a uniform with ease. Not even glancing at the officers on scene, I flashed my badge at the uniform at the door, managing a nod as I slipped past him and into the small, squat building.

"Jesus H. Christ," I hissed as I slipped my ID into my back pocket, side-stepping two body bags and a crime scene photographer. "What is that smell?"

"Fecal matter, ma'am," a uniform replied as he led me through the main corridor and into a large room off to the left. "I, uh, I mean human feces. The body's are fresh, and decomp's pretty minimal. But the place is filthy." There was more police tape, and he lifted it up and motioned for me to go ahead as I slipped under it and took the narrow stairs two at a time.

The building itself was located in the industrial center, one that, according to preliminary reports, was leased to an imports/exports company that had gone bankrupt three years before. The ground level itself was mostly storage space with a few rooms that could serve as offices, but it was the underground storage that I was interested in.

"What do we got?" I barked as I walked on-scene, booted feet clacking on the cement floor.

The coroner knelt next to a body bag, his back to me. I'd dealt with him a few times, and knew he would tell me in his own time, but that didn't mean I wouldn't shake him down a little bit, try to push his buttons. "None of the victims struggled. It would appear as they died where they fell. This fella," the gray-haired coroner jerked a gloved thumb in the direction of the body bag next to him, "looks to have bruising on his neck, and what may be an entrance point for a syringe."

"Like the bodies in D.C.?" I prompted, scowling when he slowly nodded his head in agreement. "No witnesses? Nothing?"

He opened his mouth to respond when the same uniform that had led me downstairs cleared his throat loudly. I eyed him for a moment, letting my eyes rake over him from head to foot. He looked to be in his mid thirties, had a bit of a beer belly, and a receding hairline. "Ma'am, we've got something you're definitely gonna wanna see." This time, he led the way as he ushered me through a partially hidden door in the far wall and into a room that was far bigger than any floor plan would have ever indicated. "When it was called in, we received orders not to-"

"Approach or accost any possible survivors or aggressive victims," I finished for him, brows furrowed. "I'm the one that gave that order, Detective. Has anyone been in this room?"

"No, ma'am. I told my boys to stay out and I've been the only one in or out. The big one came to about an hour ago, but he hasn't said anything." The uniform looked uncomfortable and terribly out of place in the white-washed sterilized laboratory of a room.

Two long exam tables sat on either side of a very wicked looking computer. All of the equipment, including incubators, and machines I didn't even know the name of– looked to be top of the line. Whoever it was that had been using the room hadn't been some two-bit crack head cooking up the latest batch of meth.

Besides, the three cells at the far side of the room that held two people were huge indicators of more than crack cocaine.

Deftly, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and pressed the speed dial for my contact. "Morgan, this is Evans. We've got a possible lead." Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I rattled off the address and explained to the uniform that I would have a team arriving any moment. "Keep it quiet– I don't want to draw any more attention than necessary." Without waiting for a reply, I slid the phone back into my pocket and turned to the uniform, who looked far from pleased.

"Now just one second," he began, color filling his otherwise pallid cheeks. "This is _my_ crime scene, ma'am. Who are you to just barge in here and-"

"Detective?"

"Reinhold," he more or less snapped.

"Detective Reinhold, I thank you for the fine work that you and your team have done, but from here on out, this is a federal case." I fished out my ID yet again and flashed it open, holding it up so that he could get a big fresh whiff of the fact that I'd just stolen his case out from under him, simply because _I could_. "We feel that this could be connected to several cases across the States. So, unless you'd like me to call up your Captain..." I trailed off, letting the threat do all of the dirty work.

Twenty minutes later I stood outside of the hidden laboratory, reading over the preliminary reports that the coroner and the first-on-scene had left while my team did their jobs. My eyes raked over the medical terminology lazily, simply because I didn't understand a good forty percent of it.

"Evans?" a masculine voice called out, causing me to hand over the reports to a blonde whose name I forgot every other week. With a nod in her direction, I slipped into the lab room and offered the others a quick nod as they dusted the surfaces for prints. "Two males: First appears to be in his mid-to-late thirties, Caucasian, brown hair, red and black eyes, approximately six foot three; Second appears to be in his late thirties, Caucasian, possibly brown hair, black eyes, approximately six and a half foot."

"How you doing, Morgan?" I grinned at the man as he rubbed at his stubbled jaw tiredly. He'd clearly just gone to bed when he'd gotten the call, but like any good soldier he'd rolled out of bed and gotten right to work. He was a few inches taller than me, gruff and rough looking, and built as lean and as mean as they came. "Uniform said the big one was in and out earlier. How are they?"

"First survivor's pupils are responding, and the Doc's guessing that he's under a pretty heavy dose of either pure-grade anesthesia or some heavy drugs." His uniform was black, blue under the light, and practically skin-tight as he moved in front of the cells where two large men were first restraining the smaller of the two men before loading him onto a gurney. "The second seems to be fighting whatever sort of drugs he's on, and he's shown signs of aggression. Evans?" he asked suddenly, drawing me out of my daze.

_Six and a half years_, I reminded myself as I stared at the large man sprawled almost indecently across a too-small cot. _It's been six years_. Instinctively, I lifted a hand to the dog tags I wore around my neck, reassuring that they were still there as I ran my hand through my already tussled hair. "Fury's prepared quarters for them at Triskileon," I finally responded, mind reeling as I continued to stare at his large, unmoving form. "Any luck yet ID'ing them?"

"We've got nothing on the big guy, but the smaller one's prints are matching those that were found in Paris a few years back." Deftly, he pulled out his palm pilot, working the thing like an old pro before holding it up towards me, showing me what may have been the smaller man's face. "If it's him, he's one of the best thieves in the world. Interpol's been after this guy," he shook his palm pilot slightly, "for over a decade."

"Nothing on the other?" I asked, moving to the side as two men carried LeBeau, according to his prints, out of the room.

"Nothing," he replied, sighing heavily as he tucked his palm pilot back into his uniform's vest pocket. "Why exactly is the SRU handling this?"

I stared at him for a long moment before glancing around, ensuring that there were no prying ears to overheard what I was about to tell him. "Sources outside of any federal agency are saying that these labs we've stumbled across a few times are part of some bigger picture. I'm willing to bet my terrible annual salary that when the blood work on the three victims comes back, it's going to say that they're all mutants."

"Those two are mutants?" he asked, pointing to where LeBeau had just exited and the larger man still lay unconscious on his cot. "Not so surprising."

Nodding, I folded my arms over my chest and chose my words carefully. "There's someone out there, possibly multiple someones, that are popping up all over the States. Usually the victims are runaways, or mutants with terribly obvious physical mutations. But, over the last three months, we've had two cases eerily similar to this, and this is the first time there's been any live subjects."

He seemed to consider my words for a moment before he gave an abrupt shake of his head. Kurt Morgan was certainly not a man of many words, and often preferred to do his talking in close-quarters-combat, or with a weapon of some sort. Which is generally why we tended to get along so well. "What does Fury hope to accomplish by getting these two back to Triskileon?"

The truth of the matter was that I didn't really know all of the details, I never did. Even when they told me they were briefing me fully, I knew that they were always holding something back. Nobody ever laid all of their cards out on the table, not for me. Not ever.

"We're hoping to finally get a solid ID on the asshole that keeps kidnapping mutants off of the streets." He seemed to buy it, and merely nodded his head in acceptance. "As if this shit wasn't enough to deal with, apparently the feds are reporting that several Sentinel production facilities have gone rogue and are still operating," I managed, teeth clenched. "I'm really getting tired of picking up after the bureaucrats."

"Yeah, I'd rather beat up unruly mutants all day," he grinned, face paling slightly when he realized his mistake. "Aw, shit, Dani, you know I don't mean you-"

"It's fine," I cut him off, holding a hand up in order to keep him from inserting his foot firmly in his mouth. "That's what the SRU was formed for – even the Avengers can't do what our guys do." Which sort of seemed ironic, though entirely true, seeing as how the Superhuman Response Unit was formed to take care of the problems that needed to be handled off-screen; things the public shouldn't ever know about.

"So what do we do about the big guy?" he asked suddenly, throwing me for a bit of a loop as he motioned to the remaining survivor. "Tranq him just in case, you think?"

I managed a nod as I tapped my fingers together thoughtfully, working over a rough plan in my mind. It was full of holes, but after a few hours I knew that I'd be able to get it into motion. "Tranq him and ship him. File the paperwork, and then take the day off." Turning on my heel, I headed for the door, bound and determined that I would not be around when they carted him off.

_Six and a half years_.


	2. Chapter Two

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Two~**_

"Team found no unidentifiable prints in the room," Fury explained gruffly as he leaned back in his executive chair, good eye trained on the large computer monitor. I sat across from him at the table, not important enough to warrant being included in the video conference between the director of SHIELD and the Secretary of Mutant Affairs. "The three victims were, indeed, mutants. Anything on your end, McCoy?"

The smooth and clipped voice of Henry McCoy filled the room as he replied by first clearing his throat. "My hands are virtually tied here, Colonel Fury. What I do know is that all three victims were Class I and II mutants. Two of the three shared similar abilities; one was a low-level telepath while the other was an empath. The third, oddly enough, was a feral mutant, one sharing characteristics with what appeared to be some sort of monkey."

"So, six months after all this shit started, we still got nothing."

"Nothing is a relative term, Colonel Fury," he quipped, and I could almost picture him smiling at the director of SHIELD. "What we do have is two survivors, one of whom has only been missing for several weeks. It could indicate that his arrival in the facility was recent; he could have important details that could help us catch the perpetrators behind this."

"Creed ain't talking."

"I would imagine that your methods of... _talking_ are a bit less diplomatic than I'd personally prefer," he murmured, the undertone of a threat quite clear. "Xavier has requested permission to give the two a psych-analysis."

"What the hell for?"

I stifled laughter as I shifted in the uncomfortable straight-backed chair. Fury's office wasn't made for company, and he'd clearly even forgotten I was there as he leaned further back in his chair, cigar dangling from his lips.

"Providing that both Creed and LeBeau pass a preliminary psych-analysis, he's requested that they be released into his care," he spoke the words calmly, as though using his bureaucrat voice would somehow make Fury eat craw a bit faster than he might otherwise. "You have no authority to hold them, Nick."

Fury looked ready to grab the computer monitor, kick out the eight-inch thick plexiglass, and toss it out with a howl of manly rage. Instead, he clasped his aged hands together, as though contemplating the request sincerely. "What do I get outta it?"

"What do you get?" McCoy repeated, as though slightly amused. "This isn't some sort of deal where we make a trade, Colonel Fury. I am _telling_ you, though rather politely, if I do say so myself, that Charles Xavier will be performing a preliminary psych-analysis, and if the two gentlemen are deemed safe, by his standards, they will be released into his care."

"That's complete and utter bullshit," Fury responded, voice as acidic as the man could probably manage without literally sprouting a second head. "You're risking contaminating evidence, possibly ruining the only lead that we have -"

"You have no leads, Colonel Fury." McCoy sounded more annoyed than anything, and I could almost picture him clasping his hands together in an effort to remain calm. Fury had a knack for getting on everyone's last nerve within ten minutes of meeting him. "What you have right now are two men, both of whom are, unless I'm in the wrong country, innocent until proven guilty. That being said, there's no indication that they are responsible for the deaths of the three victims that were found at the facility in question. What we do know, as of this exact moment, is that they're being held under suspicion."

"If Xavier clears 'em, I'm sending someone along to watch." Fury's good eye met my gaze suddenly, and I straightened instinctively in my seat. Frowning, I tried to relay with a look of disgust alone that the very last thing I wanted was to get involved. "Surely you won't disagree to the formal liaison tagging along?"

"Danielle?" His voice seemed tinged with surprise, as though he hadn't really considered me to be an option at all. He let out a tut and I could almost picture him shaking his head. "She's in the room."

"Yep, staring at me right now," Fury replied, his face a mask of emotions. "I get to send Evans, and you get Creed and LeBeau. I want an eye on the inside, McCoy – I know how you people operate."

There was a long moment of silence before the man finally agreed, sighing heavily. "I'll arrange it with Charles. His schedule is open for this evening; is it possible for him to meet with the two individuals before seven this evening?" he asked, as though making dinner arrangements.

Fury's gaze met mine again and I offered a brief nod. I could get half of the SRU to the headquarters in a hurry, and there was no reason to think that I couldn't personally handle our two visitors if they were unruly. "Very well. I'll send a chopper to the Institute at half til. Fury out."

A full minute passed before I realized that he'd cut the transmission with the Secretary of Mutant Affairs and was apparently waiting on me to speak. Finding my voice, I crossed my jean-clad legs lazily and cleared my throat gently. "Xavier shares many of the same ideals as you, sir."

"How's that?" he barked, nearly snapping his cigar in half with his teeth.

Half-smiling, I clasped my hands together in my lap and tried not to falter under his gaze. It had been awhile since I'd been roped into the SHIELD deal, and it was still harder to swallow than a horse pill sometimes. "He wants the world to be safe for mutants; for mutants and non-mutants to get along. If he thinks that he can help LeBeau and Creed, then he probably can."

"And you, Evans?" His eye patch shifted slightly as he righted his chair, his boots thumping against the floor behind his desk. "What exactly do you think should be done?"

I hesitated for a moment before I reminded myself that Fury loved nothing more than the truth, no matter how gruesome. "I think that the war for peace has only begun. They're still trying to pass the _Blackout_ Bill; you and I both know exactly what that will do for mutant relations. They have no way to prove that it was a mutant, and yet, there goes the blame." There was no need either of us to admit out loud that it was indeed a mutant that had caused approximately seven hundred thousand deaths worldwide. "There are whispers about a Project: Wideawake that still isn't tabled completely, not based on the fact that there are still Sentinel facilities functioning."

"You're very observant," he commented, a wry smile on his face. With ease, he unfolded his six foot plus frame out of his regal chair and stood, one hand clasped on his hip. He was slightly intimidating, dressed in black slacks, a grey-black sweater, and a black leather trench coat. That, when coupled with his eye patch, was usually enough to make the average man grovel at his feet. "You and I both know that he's going to clear both of them regardless of what sort of mental state they're in."

"I don't like playing keep away, sir."

He considered me for a moment, his head tilted slightly to the side. Lifting a hand, he pointed at me and chomped down on his cigar. "You may be acting as the official liaison between SHIELD and the X-Men -"

"And the SRU," I reminded him, remaining impassive when his cheeks puffed out slightly.

"And the SRU," he repeated, though gently, as if not liking it himself. "While you're there, you're on vacation, so enjoy it."

"Sir?" I hopped to my feet, both concerned and alarmed at the animosity in his voice. "Sir, I don't understand."

"What's there to understand, Evans?" Wordlessly, he stabbed the glowing tip of his cigar into a large ashtray on a bookcase before taking several steps toward his office door. "You've made several questionable calls in the last five months. A year and a chunk of change on good behavior in a place like this doesn't excuse the fact that you're trying to slide one right by me."

"Sir, I don't-"

"Can it, Evans." Forcefully, he pulled open his door, allowing the sounds of the busy world beyond to filter inside. "I got word just this morning that you cut two members from the SRU – without my permission."

"Sir, if you'd let me explain-"

"There's nothing to explain." With a calm lethality that any person in their right mind would acknowledge and avoid, he ushered for me to leave the room in front of him. On wobbly legs, I did. "Voltic did some digging for me – you've been keeping a side investigation off of the grid for over a year. I don't know how you managed it, but you did. That being said, the paperwork's already been filed. You'll be expected to accompany LeBeau and Creed, provided only that they are released into Xavier's care, and report the on goings directly to my office. Your status as liaison to the SRU has been revoked, and your room aboard the Helicarrier has been emptied."

My world, the world that I'd struggled to rebuild over three years, toppled down on top of me and I found myself struggling to breathe. As my heart raced, I walked alongside him calmly, briefly considering just how easy it would be to rip his arm out of the socket and beat him over the head with it. Instead, an ingrained sense of dedication and understanding caused me to nod a single time. "I understand, sir. Perhaps in time you'll forgive me. Either way, it's been an honor."

He seemed taken aback by my words, but merely nodded before holding out his hand. Wordlessly, I handed over my ID and my work cell phone, knowing deep down that the awesome techno toys that I'd received along the way would be revoked in time, too. "You're dismissed, Evans. I don't want to see your face here again. Got it?"

For the second time in my life, I took the walk of shame as my commanding officer stood behind me. For the second time in my life, I kissed my career goodbye and wondered where I had gone wrong.

"_**Here's to us, Dad, the two Evans that are too hardheaded to ever give up."**_


	3. Chapter Three

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Three~**_

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

I sat up sharply, grimacing as I broke through the seat's restraints with complete and utter ease. The sound of the choppers rotors broke through the haze that had clouded my head, drawing my gaze to the slightly stunned, albeit amused, faces of the people standing next to the helicopter.

"Where are Creed and LeBeau?" I demanded, grabbing Morgan's elbow as he shifted into the helicopter, adjusting the strap of his assault rifle.

His cold eyes met mine before he nodded toward the others outside of the chopper. "You've been out for a solid thirty. Didn't move a muscle when we unloaded them from the other chopper. They're in the lower levels and some redhead's working on 'em." As per usual, he offered me an arm down as I clambered out of the chopper. This time, he tossed my heavy bag onto the grass next to me.

I found myself standing there, crouched slightly due to the rotors, as I stared at the interior of the chopper. The other SRU members, I assumed, were hunkered down in the second chopper where LeBeau and Creed had been. Kurt Morgan, informal leader of the paramilitary group, often rode with me. "Guess this is goodbye?" I managed to get out over the whir of the rotors.

He seemed a little flustered, mad even, as he slowly nodded his head. For the first time since being introduced to him over a year ago, he held out his gloved hand. "Been an honor, Dani." His grip was firm, though gentle. A grin, one that he rarely spared under any circumstance, curled his lips as he reached for the sliding door, shutting it partly. "By the way, now that we're not working together, I wouldn't be opposed to a roll in the sack. You know the number!"

I struggled to hold the impassive smile in place as I hunkered down, watching as the two plain, unmarked choppers lifted off of the fresh cut grass and into the early morning sky. Watching, I waited until they were out of sight before I faced the three familiar faces that had waited nearby, patiently.

"Well, if it isn't the cavalry," I murmured, half-smiling. Scott, Ororo, and John stared back at me, all with varying expressions. Scott seemed hesitant, as though unsure of how to deal with my presence for the indeterminable future. John looked a little pleased, as though he'd personally had a hand in my fate. And Ororo, bless her soul, looked relieved as she cupped my cheeks between her palms before hugging me close to her in a warm, welcoming hug. "I'm sorry for conking out."

Scott offered a shrug as he hoisted up my bag effortlessly, tossing one strap over his shoulder as he led the way onto a stone path and toward the Mansion. "They explained that you'd barely had time to stop at your place to pack before you'd been shipped off. We figured that you were exhausted." His glasses glinted in the sunshine as he pulled open a glass patio door and ushered me inside.

It certainly _wasn't_ the first time I'd stepped foot in the place since graduation, but it was the first time I'd felt lost and confused. Warily, I walked behind Scott and Ororo, careful to keep pace with John. "How's Lorraine?" I found myself asking as I glanced over at him.

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he nodded his head once. "She's doing great. Lori – she's just gorgeous."

"Must take after her mom then," I teased, only laughing when he elbowed me in the side playfully. "Man, I feel like I should be worrying about Summers making me run around with a carrot tied to a stick propped out in front of me."

"I imagine the discipline helped you to succeed with your police work, and then with SHIELD," he offered over his shoulder, causing me to gulp in response.

It surprised me to realize that he wasn't aware that I'd been, in every matter of the word, exterminated. My once promising career as a SHIELD agent was literally down the shitter, and I was up a roaring creek without a paddle. And damned if my wimpy canoe didn't already have a big hole in it.

"I'll take your bag upstairs," Scott offered as he stopped at the base of the grand staircase. "Classes are canceled for the day, if the sound of screaming and running didn't already clue you in. John, want to see her down to the lower levels? The Professor will want to see her." Despite the fact that John was, at least on paper, his equal, his tone still held a bit of authority. As Co-Headmaster of the School and irrefutable leader of the X-Men, Scott Summers was not a man to be taken lightly. "I'll be down in a bit, myself."

Ororo excused herself, citing the need to check in on a few unruly students, as John led me to the elevator. Nothing had changed, not really. And I wasn't surprised when we walked down the shiny silver-gray corridor. But, I was a little taken aback when he walked into the Med Lab, rather than the room off of the War Room that I knew was equipped to deal with unruly visitors.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the doors swished open, allowing me to sweep into the room quickly. My fists clenched at my sides, I took inventory quickly, gritting my teeth and shaking my head. "Well, they sure do look secure," I nearly spat.

"Ah, Danielle, my dear, how good it is to see you." No matter the circumstance, Charles Xavier always seemed capable of diffusing any temper with the slightest touch. Positioned in his wheelchair between two exam tables, he was severely dwarfed by the two men sitting on either side of him. "I was merely chatting with our visitors. Would you care for something to drink? Ororo brought down some tea earlier, and I'm quite sure it's still at least lukewarm."

"I'm fine," I managed, ignoring John as he ambled off to the side, leaning over a computer station where Jean sat in order to talk to her privately. For a full twenty seconds, I focused on the man sitting at Xavier's left, ignoring the jolt that his eerie red and black eyes sent down my spine. He was already garbed in borrowed standard-issue _X-sweats_ and appeared more amused than annoyed. "I'm going to need to be checked for bugs – Fury's not known for his trusting nature."

"There's a scanner over in the far cabinet, top shelf," Jean offered, glancing over her shoulder. Her glasses slid down her nose slightly, but she appeared to have barely aged since I'd graduated from the Institute. "If that doesn't work, we can get Kitty down here."

With a faint nod, I walked over to the large stainless steel cabinet and pulled open the glass door. My eyes roamed over the different objects before resting on what appeared to be a hand held detector. It had been used time and time again during my visits alone, and I could only imagine how many visitors they had to wand down on a weekly basis. Jaw clenched, I turned it on and ran it over myself, one limb at a time.

"Five," I hissed as I turned on my heel, tossing the wand at John. His eyes went wide as he scrambled forward a step, barely catching the wand before it hit him. "Make sure you wand those two – I'm covering all of my bases."

The sound of the Professor's wheelchair whirring drew my attention to him as John set about wanding the two men down. "You're being a bit more paranoid than usual, Danielle." His lips curled into a cool and confident smile as I stopped beside him, resting one hand uneasily on his shoulder. As per usual, he was dressed to the nines in a hand-tailored suit that was probably worth more than I'd made in a month. _Damn, this stuff is smooth_, I decided, brows vexed in annoyance. _Make that two months_.

"They're clean," John announced as he sat the wand down on an empty examining table. "Want me to get Kitty down here?"

I considered it for a moment before shrugging a shoulder. "It's likely going to require a mild EMP. Still got that generator?"

"That's only for extreme circumstances," the Professor began, those wickedly arched brows dipping together over his gray-blue eyes. "I am not certain that such measures are needed at this point in time. After all, what could SHIELD possibly hope to benefit?"

With a shrug, I folded my arms over my chest and approached the two _guests_ uneasily. Still refusing to look at Creed, I tilted my head and decided I hated LeBeau's all-knowing smirk. "SHIELD knows as well as I do that they're not going to be getting their hands on you two any time soon. That being said, it's probably advised if you stay out of the public eye for awhile, maybe lay low. Also, I'd suggest staying out of trouble."

The room was silent save for the sound of Jean's constant pecking at the keyboard, until LeBeau let out a deep and throaty chuckle. "De belle femme lettin' ol' Remy go then?"

Brow lifted, I shook my head. "Referring to yourself in the third-person isn't too healthy, nor does it show a basic understanding of the English language." The snide comment, if anything, only seemed to make him chuckle a bit harder. "Xavier can finish his questioning, his probes, but after that I don't care what the hell you two do. I'm done."

"Done?" the Professor piped up suddenly, his voice lilted with confusion. "I thought that you were in charge of these two -"

"I was." Quickly, I turned on my heel and headed toward the room's doors, boots clacking against the floor quietly. "Fury told me to report the going ons here, and I will. I'll just be reporting that there was a lack of control and that the two subjects managed to escape in the confusion of some sort of unknown event. As far as I'm concerned, SHIELD can kiss my ass."

The doors swished open and I stepped out into the corridor, ignoring the confused voices from behind as I stalked toward the elevator, eyes narrowed in thought.


	4. Chapter Four

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Four~**_

"They're all gone?"

She nodded once, her ponytail bobbing comically. "They should be. The wand's not picking anything up, and neither am I. Whatever they were, I fried them. Your body should absorb them, break them down. That or they'll rust and stuff."

"How charming," I found myself murmuring in response as I rubbed at my forearm thoughtfully. The kitchen certainly wasn't the most ideal area for the process, but I'd been in the middle of searching for food when Kitty Pryde had appeared through a wall, wand swinging and ponytail bobbing. "Pretty quiet. Who's occupying the brats?"

With a laugh, she swung the wand around, motioning to who-knew-what. "Storm said something about a game outside. I'm not sure. All I know is that this awesome spring weather is a nice change from the chilly weather. Oh, Jubes called earlier, checking in. Said she's gonna swing by tonight for a little girl time, so make sure you're around."

"You got it," I agreed, though only halfheartedly, as I swept out of the kitchen. Bypassing a few running pre-teens, I jogged up the main staircase two at a time, crunching into an apple as I went. Doors passed by me on either side in a hurry as I ambled toward the one that I was looking for. I knocked once, waited for a response, and then pushed the door open, a smile on my face. "Marie?"

The room was decorated in warm and soothing tones, browns and blues and even a few muted greens. Like the other suites in the Institute that were reserved for members of the teaching staff, it was large and spacious and had its own in-suite bathroom. A large king-sized bed was positioned in the right corner, angled so that one large window was positioned over the side of it. There was a large bureau that was partially open, clothes strewn about. I bumped into a clothes hamper as I strolled toward the wooden sliding door next to the entertainment center, but merely tossed my apple core into a wastebasket as I slid the wooden door open gently.

The nursery, the one and only that the Mansion could call its own, was bright and vivid with life. Murals, courtesy of the resident Russian artist, had been painted on every wall depicting magical fairy tale like scenes that any child, regardless of age, would love.

"Aunt Dani!" a slightly high-pitched voice wailed before I was assaulted.

My lips curled into an instant smile as she wrapped herself around my leg, her head tilted back as she stared up at me with a gap-toothed grin. A pang hit me as I realized that she'd lost her first tooth. _Make that two_, I decided as I eyed the gap. "Uh, hello? Could you help me? I'm looking for my favorite little niece. She's about this tall," I held a hand out, "has bright pink hair, big clown feet, and believes that mac n' cheese is the only food that exists."

She giggled as she squeezed my leg even tighter, if that was possible. "Aunt Dani!" she squealed, laughing as I rubbed my fingers gently through her wavy auburn locks. "It's me! I'm Lori!"

I stared at her in awe, jaw slack as though I couldn't believe it. "You've gotta be kidding me! My Lori was so little the last time I saw her. Why, you're a big girl!"

"Tell yah Aunt Dani that's what happens when she ain't around all the time, sugah."

Grinning, I nodded my head in Marie's direction as she rose from a rocking chair, putting down the childrens' book that she'd clearly been reading before I'd wandered in. The room held a brightly colored toddler's bed, a bureau filled with clothes, a small closet that I knew was filled to the brim, and several containers of toys. Many of her toys, I knew, resided in a large toy box in the main room that John insisted was for their benefit, not hers.

Gently, I reached down and picked up my niece by the straps of her yellow and blue jumpsuit, making her giggle as I lifted her into the air. Staring at her in mock confusion, I rubbed my jaw in contemplation. "I don't know, Marie. This one looks like she snuck in somehow. You sure she didn't just slide under the door?"

"Aunt Dani!" she giggled as she reached out, latching her little arms around my neck and pulling herself in for a proper hug. I relented, letting her cuddle herself against my side as I braced her back with my right arm. She rested her head on my shoulder for a moment before she bounced once, clapping her hands together. "Mama said that you was coming! Can we camp out in the yards again?"

It was impossible not to feel lighthearted around the little munchkin that had taken the entire Mansion by storm. When Marie had found out she was pregnant, it had become an occasion for all to celebrate. Yet, just over four years after the Mansion's first baby had been born, it seemed like she was still spoiled rotten. "I'm not sure, honey. We'll have to see." Gently, I sat her down on the floor, shaking my head as she plopped right down on her behind and pulled on a pair of Velcro shoes. They were bright and didn't match her outfit, but she didn't seem to care as she swiped her hair out of her face and hopped onto her feet, holding out her hand expectantly.

With one hand wrapped around two of my fingers and the other hand wrapped tightly in her Mama's, she led us out of her little room, through the main room, and out into the hallway. We passed a few students, most of whom greeted the little girl and her mother warmly before offering me nods of respect.

She squealed in glee as we swung her between us as we walked down the stairs. It was delightful seeing her face, feeling her slightly sticky fingers wrapped around mine. "Uncle Logan!" she shouted, giggling as she let go of our hands in order to race headlong in the direction of the resident Wolverine.

Promptly hiding his lit cigar behind his back, he crouched slightly so Lori could wrap her arms around his neck and give his nose a quick kiss. He maintained a blank expression for all of five seconds before a grin curled his lips. "Hey there, kid. How are ya?"

"Good!" she replied as she rocked back on her heels, clapping her hands together. "Aunt Dani and I are gonna go camping outside. You and Miss Vivi's can too."

"Vivi's?" I repeated, brow arched.

I half expected color to flood the man's cheeks as he righted himself and put his cigar out in the palm of his hand when Lori turned her head the other way. Instead, he lifted a shoulder in a shrug and motioned toward the Professor's study. "She still has a hard time sayin' Viv's name, I think."

Marie rolled her eyes dramatically in my direction as she folded her arms over her chest. Her gaze left mine to follow the trail of her daughter as she raced into the open study, greeting everyone in her precocious sort of way before settling onto the lap of her favorite and prized 'Grandfather'.

"I was certainly hoping that the three of you could join us," Charles Xavier began, smiling slightly as the young girl in his lap munched on a cookie that had appeared out of nowhere. He reached toward a colorful tin container on his desk and handed her another, gently stroking her hair as she grinned at him, mouth full of partially chewed cookie. "I'm going to have to expand this room soon."

He wasn't exaggerating; despite the two love seats, the sectional sofa, and the two armchairs, there were still people standing as we struggled to find a place to be. I wound up perched on the arm of one of the love seats that was occupied by Kitty and Bobby, both of whom offered me mildly curious glances. Another love seat was occupied by Scott and Jean, while the sectional looked to be struggling under the weight of Logan, Marie, John and Peter, Vivian, and Rahne. LeBeau and Creed occupied the two armchairs, and a few others were scattered, standing around the room.

"First of all, I would like to welcome Danielle back into my home." With a smile that made me want to call him _Grandpa Ex-aye-vee_ like little Lori, he touched upon my mind very gently. "Since we had a very hectic morning, I thought it wise to cancel classes for the morning. Thank you, Ororo and Rahne, as well as you, Robert, for keeping the majority of the students entertained. It is much appreciated."

"Not a prob, Professor," Bobby replied for the three of them, nodding his head slightly.

"Yes, well," Xavier murmured, shifting slightly in his chair as Lori curled up in his lap, legs tucked under her as she munched on her cookie in contentment. "I've just received word from Henry – it seems that he's managed to arrange for time off and will be here sometime in the next couple of days. He would like to speak with you two gentlemen before you are formally released, if that is acceptable."

I shifted slightly on the arm of the loveseat as I crossed my legs and folded my hands together on top of my knees. LeBeau seemed at ease in a borrowed pair of _X-Sweats_ and slip-on shoes. Creed, however, had clearly borrowed clothing from someone, as he was wearing a pair of ill-fitting jeans and a t-shirt that was baggy in the chest and tight on the arms. It seemed odd that the former mutant terrorist was clean-shaven, even if his hair was a bit shaggy.

"Oui," LeBeau replied first, shuffling what looked like several quarters between his fingers. "Dat just fine. Give Remy time t' admire de belle femmes 'round here, non?" he grinned.

Kitty groaned audibly, but I couldn't help but smile at the man's audacity. He seemed almost in his element, which was saying a lot, all things considered. "Chuck, ya know that I don't give a shit. I'll leave whenever I want," Creed finally spoke, his voice a bit hoarser, more gravelly, than I'd remembered. "I don't know shit 'bout Essex -"

"Language, Mr. Creed," he interrupted, clearing his throat and glancing down at the little girl in his lap.

Promptly, Lori smiled broadly at the man in question, teeth grimy with Oreo. "Shit."

"Dammit," I heard John hiss under his breath before he smacked himself in the forehead. "Finally got her to drop the f-word."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Lori exclaimed loudly, bouncing slightly as she took a cookie from Xavier's hand and stuffed it into her mouth, sending black crumbs flying across her bright jumper and his pristine white shirt.

I chuckled to myself as I stared at Creed's profile. "I see you're still just as good with kids as you ever were."

Not for the first time since seeing him in the cell, his eyes met mine. Black as coal, they roamed over my face before trailing down the length of my body and back again. "I see yer still a little frail."

My first instinct was to show him exactly how _frail_ I was, but Bobby placed a restraining hand on my arm and I managed to shrug it off, an annoyed expression evident on my face. "And I see you're just a big kitty that can't seem to keep his fu-" I cut myself off suddenly, sneering at the leer on his face. For the first time in a very long time, I felt awkward and out of place as I shifted my weight slightly, eyes downcast and focused on the dizzying pattern that was the expensive rug.

"Now, as I was saying," the Professor began gently, touching my mind briefly and gently before retreating completely.


	5. Chapter Five

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Five~**_

"I remember when the thought of training with Wolverine actually scared me." Grinning, I stretched my arms over my head and ignored the way that the t-shirt lifted slightly, exposing a bit of my bare midriff. It felt as though it had been a very long time since I'd been getting ready to train while wearing jogging pants, sneakers, and a t-shirt. More often than not, when training with SHIELD the uniform had been required. "I'm actually looking forward to the break."

"If yah don't mind meh asking," the Rogue murmured as she spread her legs out in a v in front of her, stretching forward from her position on the floor in order to touch her toes. "How did yah train with 'em?"

I glanced over at her and the rest of the gathered X-Men before lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Got to practice by doing lots of heavy lifting for them. Wasn't much fun, but it sure was a workout. Mostly strength training." Pete chose that moment to walk into the Danger Room shirtless, drawing my gaze to his ever-perfect chest. "Oh my, the man's a god," I confided to Rogue as I stared at him in wonder.

She chuckled in response before holding out a bare hand, waiting until I'd pulled her up to her feet before she bothered to comment. "Yah may not be a student anymore, but last Ah'd heard he an' Jubes was tryin' to work things out. Yep, see." As if in cue, the two mutants swept together in a quick, but clearly familiar hug. He beamed down at the Asian-American and Jubilee seemed anything other than disinterested as she trailed a few fingers over his chest as they conversed. "Sorry sugah."

I feigned true heartbreak as I watched others flood into the room in groups of two or three. I'd received a last-minute notice invite to an X-Men training session, and I'd jumped at the opportunity to do something other than pace my room or glare out the window at the world in general. Rogue had explained that they practiced as a full team several times a week, but otherwise they just worked in random groups to work on teamwork. While it didn't make much sense, at least in my mind, I thought a nice Danger Room scenario, or ten, would help me with the anxiousness.

"Speaking of gods," Kitty murmured from beside Rogue as she stretched her limbs. I followed her gaze and merely rolled my eyes at the sight of Logan entering the Danger Room, a familiar brunette beside him. "It's not fair." I offered her one hand and Rogue the other and pulled them easily to their feet. "Why's Viv got to look so good in sweats?"

It was a good question, one that I found myself echoing. The woman was of medium height, had dark brown hair and eyes, and the body of a fighter. But, what wasn't fair was the fact that she still managed to maintain an hourglass figure that only Ororo could top. To my knowledge.

"Dani." Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of me and strolled over lazily, a smirk on her face. "It's good to see you. I haven't seen you in a few months. Hiding out from SHIELD?"

Grinning, I brushed a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "I'm doing okay. And I'm guessing by the loopy grin on your face and the doe eyes that you're still getting laid regularly." Brow uplifted, I nodded in Logan's direction quickly as he sent a warning glare in my direction. "Not only regularly, but I imagine it's also always mind-blowing."

She laughed a quick bubbly sound that reminded me of all of the extra hours we'd spent together while she'd been teaching me her craft. I would never be as competent, as skilled, as she was when it came to martial arts, in hand to hand combat, but because of her I was among the best I'd faced. "Sometimes I think that if I pretend it's terrible, that I'll stop having to beat off the gawking women with a stick. But..." She sighed wistfully as she cast a glance over her shoulder to where the Wolverine was talking in low tones to Bobby and Jubilee. "But, nobody would believe that."

"Change of plans!" Logan barked suddenly. A chorus of groans echoed in the spacious room as we grouped around him in a staggered semi-circle. "Creed's been gone for awhile, but wants to join in. Anyone have any objections?" The man in question had entered the room without my knowledge, and stood near John. He looked annoyed, and his eyes refused to meet mine as I stared at him. "Good."

"What's he doing here?" Kitty demanded, hands on her hips. Her eyes, often calm and sparked with intelligence, smoldered with annoyance at the sight of the man known as Remy LeBeau. "I thought you were leaving, LeBeau?"

He grinned easily as he raked his red on black eyes over the group of us. Obviously amused, if not outright pleased, he seemed far too at home in the borrowed clothing than any person had a right to. "Remy think dat maybe he stick 'round for awhile, _ma petite chat_. He heard dat dis room used for training, non?"

With a grunt, Logan jerked his chin in the man's direction. "LeBeau's joining us for a session as well. Instead of the usual scenario, we're running Bravo Recon II."

I echoed Rogue's groan as I closed my eyes for a moment. It probably wouldn't be too hard to get out of the exercise – I could make up some excuse about having to check in with Fury, or even say that I'd changed my mind. Logan wouldn't say anything, I knew he wouldn't. But then I'd feel stupid. "I think I prefer moving jets around a shipping yard," I muttered.

With a faint smirk, Vivian helped divide the group into two solid teams, each with their benefits. Citing the need to help oversee the scenario, she left our two groups alone in the Danger Room as she followed Logan out, her destination the control room. Since all of the members of Alpha, including Storm and Jean, were sitting out, it meant that what was left of Bravo plus our guests were involved.

"Not too bad of a team," I commented as I glanced around. I'd been grouped with Rogue, Johnny, Jubes, and Sabretooth. Iceman had been placed in charge of Kitty, Pete, LeBeau, and Bedlam. Overall, we were pretty equal. We had more strength and ingenuity, especially with Rogue, but Iceman was known for his tenacity – not to mention the fact that he was a strategist, though nothing on Cyclops' level. "What's the plan?"

"Going straight f' the gold," Rogue smirked, tugging off her gloves. "We've got enough brawn here to hold 'em off if they get there before us."

I smiled in spite of myself as I folded my arms over my chest. "Good. I don't like the hiding around bullshit Bobby likes to pull. Here." I held out one hand and lifted a brow at Rogue when she flinched. "Imprint me."

"Ah ain't real sure that's necessary. Ah got Johnny, and Ah can tap into Sabes here."

Lips pursed, I glanced up at the giant of a man and shook my head. Without a word, I pushed off of the ground and took to the air as the Danger Room shifted into a city scene. The others peeled off from the group below me; Sabretooth disappeared into the shadows while Rogue, Pyro, and Jubilee moved forward in a v-formation. It was an overcast night, but I didn't need to see anything in the air – just the ground below.

"Community center at midnight," I muttered, using the communicator that we'd each been equipped with. "Lights are on and it's awful quiet. Gonna swoop in and investigate."

I dove into an arc and flew toward a window in the building, careful to stay out of sight as I peered inside curiously. The room looked to be a classroom of some sort, and was completely empty. I checked the floors one by one, checking each window before I noticed a flash of light from a small basement window.

Brow uplifted in confusion, I crouched and peered into the basement, eyes going wide at the sight of a battered Cyclops hanging from a chain by his wrists. I swallowed thickly as I watched a large group of men (and possibly women), converse amongst themselves as a large brute of a man slammed a baseball bat against Cyclops' kneecap.

"Shit." Cringing, I shuddered at the sound of the bone splintering, forgetting for a full twenty seconds that it was a simulation. My first instinct was to break through the window, sweep in and grab Cyclops, and fly out. "I've got a visual on the target. He's on the basement level of the complex, and he doesn't look fit for travel."

"How many?" Jubilee murmured, hissing. "Shit. I just saw Shadowcat. She's watching us."

"Who cares?" Pyro muttered in response. "I'm taking the back of the building and Rogue's taking the front. Once we're in position, you get Cyclops out and we'll make sure there aren't any others."

It seemed like a half-assed plan, but it was the type of plan we preferred. I smiled in spite of myself as I lifted into the air slightly, ensuring that I was out of sight as I watched the window. "Whatever you say," I managed, rolling my eyes. Of course they would send _me_ in after Cyclops – and I was willing to bet the people inside were armed to the teeth. Heaven forbid it actually be easy.

Something grabbed me by the ankle and I nearly let out a shriek as I was jerked to the ground, a hand clasped over my mouth. Eyes wide in horror, I threw my elbow back and caught my attacker square in the chest with enough force to crumple a car door. I was shoved forward slightly, but when I turned around I saw that my attacker was uninjured.

"Dammit, Pete," I grunted as he swung a metal fist at my face. I dove toward the ground before arcing back upwards, taking to the sky and staying just out of his reach. "Colossus is on the eastern side, playing duck hunt. Dammit!" Hissing, I punched through a park bench that he threw at me, wincing as the iron armrest hit me in the forehead. "Can we get this show on the road?"

"Iceman's inside," Rogue announced, sounding a little out of breath. "And – Ow! Dammit, you dickhead! Yah try that shit again an' Ah'm gonna hurt yah!" I heard Iceman taunting her over the communicator and rolled my eyes. No matter how old he got, I had a feeling Robert Drake would always be a little immature. "Ah, hell. Kitty just phased 'im through the floor."

I glanced down in time to see Colossus hit the ground as he was tackled from behind by a large figure. Amused, I flew down toward the ground quickly, smirking as Colossus stood up, throwing the snarling Sabretooth off of his back. Without prompting, I swooped low and socked Colossus in the jaw, sending him flying into a nearby tree. The tree snapped in half and the silvery metallic sheen covering Piotr's skin disappeared – he was clearly out cold.

"Looks like you're getting old," I smirked at Sabretooth as I landed and stalked over to him. He'd managed to land on his feet, but he didn't look all that happy. "Least cats always land on their –"

"Now Tenacity!"

With a howl of protest, I pushed up off of the ground, leaving a sonic boom in my wake as I smashed through the window I'd been watching earlier. I was a blur as I made a single sweep of the room, knocking most of the supposed assailants flat on their asses. Hovering next to Cyclops, I reached out and snapped the chain holding him to the ceiling in two, throwing him over my shoulder in a fireman's carry before winking at a man that chose to fire a his pistol in my direction.

"I'm out!" I announced cheerfully as I flew through the window, careful not to jostle my passenger. "I counted eight, but I think I saw a few more in an attached room. Hey!" My passenger slid _through_ me and I glared at Shadowcat as she appeared out of the ground, a pleased smile upon her face. "Dirty."

Cyclops landed on the ground next to her with a thunk, and she simply nodded. I reached down to grab her, but my hands phased right through her shoulders. "Nice try," she teased as she punched me in the stomach. "Oh, that looked like it hurt."

My hand snapped down instantly and I shoved her backwards, catching her by surprise. She squealed as she flew back several feet, rolling at she hit the ground. Her eyes darkened in anger before she disappeared, phasing through the ground. Not wasting any time, I scooped Cyclops up again, slinging him over my shoulder. He was breathing, but I wasn't sure how injured he was – he needed medical attention.

A moment later, the Danger Room had shifted back into its former glory: gone was the building and the trees and the grass far below – back was the silvery walls and the seemingly see-through flooring.

Cheering erupted as I found myself face-to-face with Rogue's smiling face. My arms were empty – the holographic Cyclops had vanished into thin air. Rogue grinned broadly as she tugged on her gloves. Her green eyes were a bit hazy, no doubt from the rush of the physical fight she'd probably gotten into with, I presumed, Bobby or Kitty.

"Excellent job, everyone!" Vivian appeared in the Danger Room, along with the others. Her smile was broad and wide as Logan sidled up beside her, quickly looping his arm around her waist in one of those practiced moves that longtime couples exhibited. "Dani – it's good to have you back."

For the first time since I'd left after graduation, I actually _felt_ like I was where I belonged. My shoulders sagged forward as I smiled in return, sighing. "Good to be back."


	6. Chapter Six

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Six~**_

"The bad news is that speaking with Colonel Fury resulted in very few actual answered queries."

Since I didn't know what to say, I merely continued to shove food into my awaiting mouth. The impromptu meeting wasn't for my benefit, after all. It was a discussion regarding what to do with Remy LeBeau - for the most part. I'd merely been looking for a quick bite to eat when the so-called _egg heads_ had carried in a great deal of Chinese take-out.

Of course, I'd wandered over, uninvited, and helped myself to some rice, four egg rolls, and a pint of chicken and broccoli. Xavier, along with Summers, Logan and Vivian, Jean, Creed, LeBeau and Ororo all lingered around the large dining table. They chatted amongst themselves, some more vocal than others, and devoured large amounts of take-out.

"Isn't Hank supposed to be arriving soon?"

I glanced up, brown eyes narrowed in thought. Ororo deftly handed a pint of spicy chicken to Xavier, who dumped a large amount of the food type onto his plate. Ororo, Logan, Viv, and LeBeau all used chopsticks like pros, but the others chose to use actual silverware. In fact, Xavier ate with such delicacy that one would have thought he'd sat down to dine with the Queen of England.

"Yes, Ororo. Henry should be arriving this evening. Well ahead of schedule. Danielle?" I glanced up while in the process of depositing a large amount of sweet and sour sauce onto my rice. His brows rose slightly as I bit into an egg roll, eyes on him. "Are you positive that you can think of nothing that may help us locate this unknown? It's quite disconcerting."

I sat on the counter, sock-clad feet swinging, and felt the gazes of the room's occupants swing around to rest on my form. Feeling a little odd, I chewed my egg roll carefully and swallowed it before meeting Xavier's gaze. "I told you, Xavier - I'm not with SHIELD anymore. I don't have any intel that you don't already have access to."

"This whole business with SHIELD is quite confusing."

"I agree with Ororo," Scott murmured, shaking his head in what appeared to be disappointment. "I for one would like to know what happened, Danielle. I get the feeling that there's more to this whole story than –"

"There's nothing to it," I insisted, shaking my head. While they stared at me, waiting for an explanation, I shoveled a large amount of sweet fried rice into my mouth. It helped with the hunger, but it didn't make me feel anymore comfortable when I finally sighed and forged on. "I was told to take a little vacation while overseeing Creed and Remy. A _permanent_ vacation."

"But, I thought -"

"Fury doesn't trust me anymore," I interrupted Scott again, wishing he'd stop looking at me as though I'd somehow managed to disappoint him twice in a span of a few minutes. "If you're not under his thumb, he doesn't want you under him - period." Of course, I realized after the fact that the statement sounded a bit more personal than I'd meant it to be, but knew I'd only worsen the situation if I continued.

But, Scott wasn't willing to let it go.

"He doesn't trust you."

"He doesn't trust me any further than he could throw me, as my granny used to say," I added, scooping up another bite of fried rice. When I realized that they expected more of an explanation than that, all I could do was exhale sharply. "Look, it's not a big deal. It's not like I was under contract or anything. Fury says you're out - you're out. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Okay?"

It was Logan that finally cleared his throat, and the air.

"A'right, kid. I know how Fury operates." And the look he gave me _promised_ we'd talk about it later. Which didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. Out of everyone in the room, I trusted him and Vivian the most. He'd believed in me and pushed me and spent more time with me than all of the other instructors combined. Vivian, of course, had continued training with me after Logan and Creed had left do to their _bonding_ bullshit. "What about that computer expert o' yours, Wheels? They got anything?"

"I'm afraid there has been no word from them," the Professor replied quietly. His eyes were slightly gazed over and he stared over Ororo's shoulder as though entranced by the sight of the wall behind her. "This string of murders mystifies and worries me."

"I still ain't remembered much o' nothin' 'bout it all."

My fork clattered from my hands and hit the counter beside me, bouncing twice before I slammed my hand down atop it. I barely had the presence of mind to ensure that I didn't put my hand through the (expensive) granite counter top. I swallowed a mouthful of rice and did my best to look disinterested even when his eyes danced over to rest on me.

"Me neither, _homme_. All Remy remember is a bar an' maybe a game, non?"

"Yeah. New Orleans maybe?"

"Oui. De Big Easy." I glanced up as LeBeau leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed in a lazy manner. I did a double take - he was indeed shuffling a deck of cards between his long, tapered fingers. "Den dey was a big fight. Fire maybe. Remy remember some petites, belle femme, non?"

"Coupla hot pieces of ass," Creed agreed, sipping from his beer greedily. Those eerie eyes stayed on me as he leaned back in his chair and spread his legs in an obviously sexual way before simply leaning back in his chair, all casual-like. "Some kinda gas, I'm guessin', cause it sure wasn't in the beer."

"De gas - it cause fire when it explode maybe," Remy suggested, rubbing his chin in thought. "All Remy know is he wake up an' de place ain't so nice, _mon ami_. Ain't so nice t'all."

"I think that it would be a good idea to investigate this a bit further, Professor. Perhaps a more in-depth telepathic scan would be beneficial. At least..." Scott glanced over at Creed with what may have passed for a tentative frown. "At least, it might prove to wield more information than the scan you performed on Creed."

"Victor's mutation, his age, and the tremendous trauma he has suffered over the last century or so has rendered his mind virtually impenetrable. So, I'd have to agree with Scott, Professor Xavier. I would - I think that with your guidance, I could gain Remy's trust enough that he might be willing to let me into his mind."

I glanced over at Jean with a slight frown, until I remembered that LeBeau had natural defenses against mental intrusion, as well. Overall, the two were probably the least helpful survivors that could have made it out of the situation alive. They didn't remember anything, their minds were guarded and wary, and neither of them exactly _owed_ Xavier any favors.

Still, _I_ had seen to the fact that they'd wound up at the Institute rather than in lock-up aboard the Hellicarrier for the rest of their lives. My gut told me that Fury would have enjoyed toying with the two until they gave him the information he wanted, even if they hadn't been able to.

"It's all very confusing, but I would have to agree. Victor, I am aware that you have some personal reasons for avoiding the Institute over the last few years, but -"

"I stay," the gruff man interrupted, those amber eyes meeting mine. "For now."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Seven~**_

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if you'd stayed with Bobby?"

She snorted at that and tipped back her glass, emptying it the rest of the way. Once the liquid was gone, she gently placed her glass back on the table and met my gaze with bright eyes.

"Yah ain't really askin' meh that, are yah?"

I tilted my head to the side and peeled away the label on my bottle of beer. Though the bar was busy, I was able to ignore the noise rather well in order to focus on the Southern girl that had been my best friend for so long.

"It just kind of amazes me, I guess." Slowly, I tipped my head and glanced over toward the opposite side of the bar where a number of the guys were playing an intense game of billiards together. Johnny chose that moment to look our direction, meet my gaze, and smirk before he took his shot. Laughing, I met Marie's smiling face and shook my head. "You two are something, you know."

A waitress made her way around the bar and deposited a second glass of red wine in front of Marie and a frosty bottle of beer in front of me before disappearing without a word. Apparently she remembered me from my last visit to the Institute - and thus my last visit to Case's that had ended rather... poorly.

"She still doesn't like me," I muttered, laughing at Marie's put-on expression. "Come on, girl! It's not like it's _my_ fault that her so-called boyfriend hit on me the last time I was in here."

"It also ain't her fault that she ended up havin' to pay for damages last time. Yah did a nice disappearin' trick, after all."

I smiled a bit at the memory as I followed the waitress's path with my eyes. Her boyfriend had been kind of hot, and I'd been throwing back beers fast enough to warrant a bit of drunkenness on my part. After all, my so-called healing ability was nothing like the Wolverine's.

"I don't even remember his name."

Marie snorted at that before sipping her wine delicately, her perfectly manicured nails catching the dim light from overhead. "Gerry."

"Oh shit! That _was_ his name, wasn't it?" Tickled pink, I took my gaze off of the waitress and leaned back in my seat, beer momentarily forgotten on the table in front of me. "Why do _you_ remember it, anyway?"

"Because Ah'm the one that caught y'all in the alley out back, Dani. Ah'm the one that talked you into putting his dick back in his pants before he gave ya some sort of disease." She rolled her eyes when I snorted again, only vaguely recalling the instance. "Ah'm serious, girl. Ah seen ya drunk before. Hell, Ah seen ya horny. But Ah damn sure don't like the combination."

"Then you're going to _hate_ me tonight," I warned her, smirking devilishly. "The problem I foresee is that there just aren't many men around here to choose from. And sleeping with someone from the Institute would be, well..."

"A lot like sleepin' with ya cousin?"

"Yeah!" I slammed my beer down on the table, a bit too roughly, and the glass bottom shattered. I winced visibly as shards of glass scattered a few inches around on the table and the remaining liquid spilled over the edge and onto my lap. Since it was a miniscule amount, I merely picked up a cloth napkin and dabbed at my thigh as I shook my head in disgust. "Dammit. Maybe I _have_ had enough, Marie."

Of course, Johnny chose that moment to stroll over and pull up a chair next to Marie, his eyes dancing with mirth at the sight of my disaster. The waitress walked by, released a few obscenities, and then disappeared yet again into the rear of the bar; no doubt she was hoping that I'd clean up the mess or leave before she'd have to face me again.

I rose to my feet, hardly aware of the three inch damp stain on my upper left thigh as I did so. "Johnny, I think I've had enough to drink. I need to sober up." I crossed the few feet between us and fell in his lap, throwing myself over both he and Marie with an exaggerated sway and gasp of breath. "Oh, please, kind people, cause me actual bodily harm so my healing factor will double-time it."

"Fat chance, girlie," Marie teased as she tugged on my dark locks.

I sat up sharply and Johnny jabbed his knee into my ass until I hopped back up onto my feet, frowning. "You two are no fun whatsoever!"

"Sugah, we'll call ya a cab."

"I don't want a cab," I muttered, shaking my head. Already, the effects of the eight beers and several shots of something-or-other were wearing off. In an hour's time, I'd be sober enough to pass an actual breathalyzer test. "I'll take the scenic route!"

I tugged on my leather jacket and dropped several twenties on the table to cover my tab for the evening as well as a decent sized tip for the waitress. (Even though I hadn't actually screwed her man – what was his name again, Jason? Gerry? Josh? – I felt a little guilty.) After all, Rogue made it sound like we'd been damn close to the unthinkable, even if I couldn't completely remember all of the exact details.

"Hey Dani, I'm heading back to the Institute." Bobby pointed a finger at the door and smiled his megawatt smile. He had a domestic beer in one hand, a pool cue in the other, and a look on his face that was a mixture of concern and interest. Mini Cyclops. "I can give you a lift."

"I'm fine," I assured him, shaking my head decisively. "I can get there quicker on my own. You guys have fun and be safe and make sure you take a cab back or have Logan drive." I jerked my thumb and pointed into the dark corner where the man in question sat, engaged in conversation with Vivian and another man I didn't recognize. "See you in the morning."

The others waved their goodbyes and I even brushed shoulders with Jubes and Pete on the way out. They smiled at me before they climbed into his big Silver truck and peeled out of the gravel lot – though I did take notice that they weren't heading _back_ to the Institute, but instead in the opposite direction.

I walked down the road for about a quarter of a mile, the moon lighting my way. My jacket did little to protect me from the evening chill, but I didn't mind the brisk air much. And the moment I was certain there was no one around, I did a double-take and pushed off into the night air.

A breath of relief escaped my lungs as I flew through the air at a leisurely speed. There was no need to race back to the Institute; nothing awaited me but probing looks and serious questions that I wasn't ready to answer. So, I did the appropriate thing: I took the scenic route.

But, after adding an unnecessary thirty minutes to my journey, I eventually saw the Institute and accepted that I couldn't put it off any longer. My body had already worked most of the toxins out of my system, and I decided that I'd change that the moment that I landed. To my surprise, there were no lights other than the usual security lights and the few in the foyer when I slowed my speed and descended.

Rather than risk waking up the household, I chose to fly to one of the kitchen windows. It was wired to an alarm, but there was a trick to it. I wiggled it just right and was able to open the window without triggering the silent alarm that would have had some of the best technological weapons pointed at me the moment I closed it.

I didn't bother flipping on the light as I strolled toward the refrigerator, already tasting the vodka I knew was hidden in the freezer. I tugged open the door and peered inside. As expected, I found a half-full bottle of Smirnoff buried behind a bag of frozen peas. With a delighted smile, I shut the freezer door and spun on my heel and blinked as warm breath fluttered against my face.

Instinct fueled my body.

I crushed the heel of my free hand into the chest of the attacker, hissing as they stumbled back a step. Before they could recuperate, I swung the bottle of vodka, prepared to smash their skull in. But, the bottle met air and I blinked, the dark room tricking my eyes.

"Dumb frail."

My heart sped up instantly, skipping a few beats as a light flicked on and I found myself looking at none other than Victor Creed. Of course, my hand dropped to my side, the bottle still clutched in my grasp, and I stared up at the giant of a man for a few long seconds before I exhaled heavily.

"Jesus Christ on a biscuit! You scared the fuck out of me, Creed," I hissed, humiliation flooding my cheeks. The realization that he could have very well been an innocent student had suddenly occurred to me, and it embarrassed the shit out of me. I could have been dealing with explaining to Jean why she was sewing up a kid rather than staring at a man that gave me the chills. "What the hell are you doing?"

He tilted his head to the side slightly before a chilling smile curled his lips. "I could be asking you the same thing, girl." He leaned against the doorjamb for a moment, drawing my attention to the fact that he wore only a pair of ill-fitting sweats and _nothing_ else.

_Shit! That whole drunk __**and**__ horny thing is going to get me killed_, I thought to myself, eyes darting to and fro. _Maybe I can just knock him over the head and get by without –_ I cut that line of thought when I saw his amber eyes trail down my form and then back up again.

"Well, I was just going to have myself a nightcap. I'm off to bed now," I explained, moving forward and expecting him to move out of the way.

He didn't.

"Vodka? Don't seem like your style."

"And apparently shirts aren't _your_ style," I quipped back, chin raised defiantly.

His lips curled into a feral smile at that – a smile that made my stomach perform an amazing flip that would have made even the Olympic-quality Jubilee clap with appreciation. "You're a cute little thing, ain't ya?"

He took a step forward and I took a step back. The process repeated until my back was against the counter and he was no more than an inch away from me. My mind reeled and I recalled, suddenly, the night years ago when he'd sat on the swing with me in the freezing cold, his body heat seeping into the blanket.

He'd made me uncomfortable then.

He scared the shit out of me now.

"What's wrong, girl?" he asked, his hot breath fanning over my face. It took me by surprise just how fucking _big_ the man was. "Cat got your tongue?"

His hand moved slowly as he reached forward...

And took the bottle of vodka from my hand.

I watched, intrigued, as he twisted off the cap and took a long swig of the liquid. His Adam's apple bobbed several times as he sucked down the liquid, a few dribbles snaking out of the corners of his mouth. A sigh of appreciation left his mouth as he offered me the bottle, a daring flash in his eyes.

No stranger to a challenge, I took the bottle from him and swigged back several mouthfuls, swallowing the burning liquid as quickly as I could. The moment some of it dribbled down my chin, I stopped chugging and shoved the bottle back at him with more force than necessary.

"Thanks. I'm off to bed now. Goodnight."

I shoved past him and walked toward the door, but was no more than a few feet when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I spun around sharply when he tugged on me, more surprised than anything. My eyes went wide when I looked up at him, ignorant of the fact that my hands were on his bare chest; I noticed only that there was something in his eyes that made my skin tingle and my heart race.

Then his eyes trailed down a bit and I flushed at the knowledge that he was staring at my chest. When I opened my mouth to comment, he used his finger to tug on a sliver of chain that had slipped out of my shirt.

Before I could react, he'd tugged the tags from their resting spot and caused them to flash under the bright overhead light.

"Goodness gracious!" a deep voice called out. "What on Earth are you doing carousing about the kitchen at this time of night?"

I jerked backwards instantly and spun on my heel, moving like a woman on a mission before Creed could even recover. A flash of blue in front of me alerted me to Hank McCoy's form, but I only nodded at him as I shoved past him and out of the kitchen.

I heard him call out after me and then attempt to engage the feral mutant in conversation. But, rather than stick around to eavesdrop, I flew up the stairs and sequestered myself in my room, eyes glued to the door.

The secret was out, and it scared the shit out of me.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Eight~**_

"Dani, the sun don't shine on the same dog's tail all the time."

I blinked a few times and then stared intently at Marie as she finished packing several important items into Lori's overnight bag. "Are you serious? You're going to throw some weird Southern phrase at me and think that it can cover all the bases?"

"Yep." She zipped up the bright yellow bag and tossed it on the bed next to several other pieces of luggage. The blue sundress she wore accented the flush in her cheeks and made me smile in response, even if I'd have rather groaned. "Yer sure you're gonna be fine here for the weekend?" Her accent was heavier than normal, but I chalked it up to her distracted state.

"Oh, come off of it. You think I'm going to get lost at the Institute if you're gone for a couple days?" I stretched out my legs in front of me and watched her progress as she inspected the room carefully. "The fact that it's a school break kind of sucks, but I'll find something to do. Scott and Jean said I could fly to D.C. with them if I wanted to." Though it _really_ didn't sound like a lot of fun. "Are you excited?"

"Excited don't even begin to cover it, Dani. Ah can't believe we're takin' Lori to Disney World!" Her eyes lit up as she spun in a small circle and paused, her hair resting on her shoulders delicately. A worried expression furrowed her brows for a moment and I sensed the motherly comment before it even left her lips. "Ah worry about ya. Ah think ya should go along with us."

I groaned and threw my head back, closing my eyes as I slid down in the armchair in embarrassment. The thought of tagging along with the young and happy family made me feel like an absolute social pariah. They deserved their quality time together, and it certainly helped that they'd talked Kitty, Bobby, and Jesse and Tabby into joining them on their trip. The others would likely spend the majority of their time at Universal Studios or more enticing locations, but Marie, Johnny, and little Lori would explore the wonderful world of Walt Disney.

And part of me was just a little bit jealous.

"I am _not_ going with you, Marie. You're out of your fucking mind if you think that I'm going to cozy up to Donald Duck." I rose to my feet in one fluid motion and made up my mind – that instant. "I'm going to go with Jean and Scott to DC. I think they said something about giving McCoy a ride, so that will give me time to catch up with him." And hopefully I could do it without the input of everyone else.

Maybe the others would stop wondering and cease asking why I wasn't with SHIELD anymore. It would certainly save me a lot of trouble.

"I need a cigarette," I decided abruptly, suddenly craving nicotine. "Don't look at me like that, Marie. It's not like it can kill me." I didn't smoke often, never had, but while working a case a burst of nicotine had always helped soothe my nerves.

"You assholes and yer healing factors," she snorted, shaking her head as she placed a sweater on top of her overnight bag. Her hands on her hips, she stared at me as I poked at a few pieces of luggage. "Ah think Ah got everything."

"That's good, because you have to leave soon if you've got any hope of making your flight. Come on, I'll carry this crap for you. Where's Lori, anyway?"

She picked up her overnight bag and two other small bags as I hoisted up the rest of the luggage and followed her out of the room. I listened, only half-attentive, as she talked about Lori's recent interest in art and the fact that she was already grasping the basics of math and the star of her tumbling class. (Of course, she was the only member of her tumbling class and Aunt Jubilee praised her sole student repeatedly.) I smiled to myself as we came to a pause at the door that led from the interior of the Institute to the garage.

"I can get those, Dani. Shit, you didn't have to carry them all down." Johnny muttered under his breath as I started to pile the luggage in his arms. But, after only two, he relented and jerked his head and led me into the garage. "Think she's packed enough? Holy shit, we're only going to be gone for four days, five nights."

"Better safe than sorry," I offered, shrugging as we stacked the bags carefully in the back of the black SUV. Once they were stacked properly, we closed the hatch and walked around the side of the Suburban to find several people chatting away with Marie and the others.

"Why in the hell are they saying goodbye anyway? It's not like we're going across country."

And though I agreed with St. John's observation, I didn't say a word. Instead, I took a step back and merely observed, hidden partially in the shadows of the large garage, as friends and colleagues wished each other a good trip and safe tidings. It was interesting to see who hugged whom, who stood back a little awkwardly and shied away from any connections with whom, and who seemed genuinely jealous that they weren't going to Disney World.

_Never would have pegged Logan for it_, I thought to myself, smiling slightly as Lori clambered down from his arms. Vivian stood at his side, a wistful look in her own expression as she watched her man handle the young girl with absolute ease. I wondered, just for a split second, what a Logan Jr. would look like before I shook the disturbing image out of my head.

Kitty and Bobby stood side by side, practically matching in their cute red shirts with matching black _X's_ on the back. Jesse and Tabby were holding hands, though hesitantly so. And I had a feeling when they returned from the trip they wouldn't be holding hands anymore.

"Hiding?"

I swallowed thickly before glancing up at Scott Summers, the man that had made my senior year at the Xavier Institute _hell_. He smiled knowingly, as though he'd read my mind, and then he nodded toward the large group of people that were gathered together.

"You already say your goodbyes, too?" he inquired, leaning against the wall beside me casually. "I don't like goodbyes. They're uncomfortable."

"Agreed. And yeah, I said my goodbyes." And I just couldn't bring myself to hug little Lori goodbye again. She'd been very upset when I'd regrettably informed her that I wouldn't be visiting the Castle with her and Mama and Daddy. Marie had eventually distracted her, but I wanted no repeat of the performance. "When are you guys heading to DC?"

"About an hour," he responded quietly, a lilt of surprise in his voice. "Hank talked like he thought you wouldn't want to ride along. Something to do with SHIELD?"

The question irked me, but I managed a faint smile that couldn't have fooled a schoolchild, let alone the leader of the infamous X-Men. But, he let it slide.

"As it happens, I think Jean is going to stay behind unless her migraine's lessened in the last couple hours. She's okay, just not one hundred percent." He smiled and glanced down at the watch on his wrist, but I noticed the way that the lines around his lips twitched with worry. "Headaches have been plaguing her lately."

Worry twisted in my gut, but I managed a faint smile in return. All I could think about was the version of Dr. Grey that I'd seen firsthand so long ago: the day that I'd nearly died so many times. In the back of my mind, all I could see was the flash of orange in the woman's kind green eyes.

And it scared me imagining it as much as it had actually seeing it in person.

Marie and John knew better than to look for me as they climbed into the Suburban, Lori tucked between them in her booster seat. Tabby and Kitty were destined for the third-row seat, and I heard Tabby's loud complaints from across the garage even as Bobby turned the engine over and put the Suburban in gear. Jesse was already distracted by a tablet in his hand as the Suburban backed out of its spot and crept out of the garage at a snail's pace.

A few moments later, the garage door squeaked shut and the onlookers quickly dispersed. I stood awkwardly with Scott for a minute or two before he uttered a quick apology and left me alone, disappearing through the door that led inside.

I exhaled sharply, surprised to realize that I had been holding my breath. When I stepped out of the shadows, it was to find myself face to face with the very same man that I'd been avoiding since two nights ago. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I stared up at him, briefly wondering where he'd been lurking and how long he'd been there.

My voice was lost for a long moment before I was able to speak. "Need something, Creed? They keep the keys in the lock box over there." I lifted a hand and pointed over his shoulder, in the direction of the interior of the School.

His amber eyes narrowed slightly before dancing down to rest on what little cleavage my gray sweater showed. I flinched as he used his finger to, yet again, expose more of the chain and the two objects that were hanging from the chain.

"Why ya got these?"

"You left them," I replied immediately, wincing at the alarm in my voice. "That day you and Logan left – you tossed them out the window." He hadn't wanted them then, so I didn't really understand why it was such a big deal. "Souvenir."

"Souvenir," he repeated, his tone mocking. "That's fuckin' rich, girl. Wearin' a man's tags like some dime store find. Lot of blood and sweat went into them. Y' know that? Y' know what they represent?"

I swallowed thickly, my heart racing as he stared down at me with those penetrating amber eyes. I didn't know what to think, let alone what to say. "But – but you didn't want them."

"And what the hell made ya think that?"

My eyes widened and my mouth fell open in shock for a split second before a bit of fire found its way to my voice. "Maybe the fact that you threw them out the damn window? Pretty good indication in my book. And I liked them, so I kept them."

"You _liked_ them?" He snorted and shook his head.

"Yes! Why is that so hard to believe?" I demanded as he tugged on the chain, inadvertently bringing me a breath closer to him. My thoughts whirled as I tried to explain exactly _why_ I had picked up those tags so long ago. My teenage mind had been overwhelmed with grief and confusion and even a bit of intrigue, all because of the events at Alkali Lake and the sudden disappearance of my safety net and his long lost brother. "Reminded me of Logan's tags."

Creed snorted at that and finally let go of the tags, smirking at me as he examined the way that the tags fell against the swell of my chest. "Got a thing for the Runt, frail? Don't know what it is 'bout that little fucker and women – what's Viv see in my brother? That it, huh?" He edged closer, but unlike two nights before I didn't find myself trapped with my back to the wall. Instead, we were in the middle of the garage, our voices echoing in the cavernous space as he advanced on my slowly retreating form. "Like wearin' them tags and thinkin' they're his? Like Stripes used to do?"

I instantly recalled the fact that Marie had worn Logan's tags while he'd been away for the year or so of their acquaintance. He'd been her protector, and his tags had been a promise that no matter what – he'd always return.

But the implication was disgusting, even if I _did_ find Logan physically attractive.

"You're a pig."

"And you're a flippant little girl. Wearin' tags like that, keepin' something that don't belong to you." Without warning, his hand came down to rest on my side, pressing against my side so that his thumb rested just below my breast – I'd never realized how large his hands were before then. "Some might think yer wearin' 'em cause you care 'bout the original owner, frail. Might even think yer waitin' for him to come on back to you so's you can give 'em back."

He squeezed my side gently and a wave of warmth swept through me that confused me to the core. Heat flooded my face and something inside of me twisted in a way that frightened me.

Not because I'd never felt anything similar before, but because it was just plain _wrong_ to feel that way about the Sabretooth. He was the same man that had tried to kill me and my friends years ago, the same man that had a longer rap sheet than any criminal organization in the world.

Regardless of the fact that he was Logan's brother, he was still more monster than man – the blackness that filled his eyes more often than not was proof enough of that. And I knew, through the grapevine that was Marie, that Creed had been offered a place on the X-Men roster dozens of times, but had always declined and done his own thing.

And my SHIELD experience had warranted me occasional glances into his file in the database; the man had kept a lower profile than I'd have expected, but he was still doing someone's dirty work before I found him drugged in a laboratory.

"So, question is why a little itty bitty frail like you would wear m' tags..." A low sound rumbled in his chest that was akin to purring that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. I shivered in response, but I wasn't sure if it was from fear or something much, much worse. "Yer still a pretty little frail, ain't ya?"

His breath was hot on my face as he leaned down, his nose inches away from mine. I shivered in response, my body quivering slightly as my lips parted in surprise. His amber eyes darkened as he got closer and closer until I could literally feel the heat from his breath upon my lips.

_Holy shit_, I thought to myself, heart racing. _I want him to kiss me_.

The realization panicked me and I took a step back, lifting a hand to grasp at the tags upon my chest at the same time. My first instinct was to tear them off and throw them at his booted feet, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

The fact that I couldn't do it scared me more than my desire to kiss him.

Our awkward moment was interrupted before either of us could breach the silence when Scott opened the garage door and poked his head inside. I glanced toward the man blankly, heart still racing and breaths ragged, and barely understood his question.

"What?" I asked, throat parched.

"I asked if you still wanted to ride along to DC," he repeated, frowning slightly. "Is everything okay in here, Danielle? What are you doing out here, Creed?"

While Creed muttered a not-so-polite _fuck off,_ I managed to regain some semblance of normalcy. When I met the man's amber eyes again, it was with a calmer face and steadier hands. His nostrils flared a few times as I nodded at him and walked past him toward Scott, careful to keep my stride as calm and practiced as possible.

"Let me pack an overnight bag just in case."

Scott held open the door for me and nodded in agreement as we walked down the hallway toward the grand stairs together. "You might want to pack something formal, at least business-formal. Might be accompanying Hank on a briefing," he explained when I looked up at him, confused.

Though I couldn't see his gaze, I noticed his confused expression when the tags on my chest glinted under the bright overhead lighting. Wordlessly, I tucked them back under my shirt and jogged up the steps two at a time. Once we were on the second floor landing, I spared him a slight smile and promised to meet him in the hanger in twenty minutes.

First I would go through Rogue's closet to find something I could _hopefully_ wear.

Then I would try to knock some sense into myself.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

**Chapter Note:** A lot of telepathic conversation occurring in this chapter. _Italics _indicate Danielle's thoughts while **bold** indicates incoming telepathic conversation. Very easy to follow, I promise.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Nine~**_

"You've been really quiet, Danielle."

I shifted anxiously in the chair, uncrossing and crossing my legs several times in an attempt to get more comfortable. The black slacks I'd borrowed from Rogue were a little tight across my butt and thighs but they were the perfect length. Thankfully, the boots I'd borrowed looked amazing and drew attention away from the fact that my white shirt was more of a cream and also half a size too small.

As a result, I couldn't ignore the fact that Jean looked like a suave and sophisticated woman, put together like someone out of Cosmopolitan. Her skirt was smooth, the perfect length, and complimented her draped-style green blouse and knee-high brown leather boots perfectly.

It pissed me off.

"I'm fine. Just wish Hank would hurry up," I muttered, staring at the stage in the distance in a bored manner.

The idea of acting as security at one of Hank's meetings with some of the President's most influential cabinet members had been exciting at first. Then Scott had added that Secret Service agents would be there as well, and so would dozens of important congressmen and senators.

Which meant that I was stuck in the peanut gallery next to Jean while Scott blended in with the Secret Service, ruby red glasses and all. He claimed that because of his psychic connection with Jean, if there was any problem that she could contact him or vice versa. But, given the fact that my stint with SHIELD hadn't popped up on my list of credentials when we'd signed into the event, there had been no way for me to do more than sit back. And watch.

Henry McCoy had been blessed at birth with a rousing voice and a wit that made nearly anything he said impressionable. But, the others that were involved in the discussion weren't nearly as lucky. Needless to say, I was bored.

**We could talk this way, if you'd like**, Jean offered, projecting her thoughts to me mentally.

As I had been doing since my time as a student in the Institute, I immediately threw up mental shields that would keep out a telepath's most basic attempt to read my thoughts. But, I took a deep breath and lowered them so that she could skim my surface thoughts with ease.

To my amusement, she chuckled and nudged me with her elbow at the mental image of the congressmen and senators present swinging from the overhead lighting like idiots, dressed in gorilla suits.

**I agree. Hank is more of a man than any of the men up there. Would you find it interesting to learn that half of the men up there loath him based solely on the fact that he is a mutant**?

_No_, I thought, frowning. I was used to discrimination, and if it started as low on the totem pole as my position in the world, then surely it went all the way to the top. _At least he's strong enough to deal with it day after day. I don't know if I could look all of those sneering people in the face without finally losing it and punching someone's teeth down their throat_.

To my surprise, the ever-perfect Dr. Jean Grey chuckled softly under her breath. **You always did speak your mind. Do you remember your first few weeks at the Institute?**

_I remember breaking a lot of stuff. It's a wonder I ever managed to pay Xavier back for everything._

**I think he still has a tab somewhere, actually. But, no. I mean... How you stood apart from the other students. I think that until that fateful trip in the mountains, you were just another face in the crowd. **

I thought back to the practice exercise in question and frowned in memory. I remembered how we'd all been hesitant, and it had been Logan's presence that had kept us calmer than we would have been under any other situation.

**You were the first to really get into the exercise and prove that you weren't afraid to take lead**.

_I just had more experience in the outdoors than the others_.

**I'm sure you did, and do**, she added, sighing in my mind. It was a strange sensation, but her mental touch was light enough that I didn't mind too much. **No one was more surprised than Scott – after the fact, of course. He pegged you for more of a closeted urbanite**.

_Couldn't have been further from the truth_.

"It's completely preposterous for the government to assume this position, gentlemen!" Secretary of Mutant Affairs Dr. Henry McCoy threw up his hands in frustration. "Have we not learned from the nationwide panic and paranoia that an attempt to _regulate_ mutants in such a derogatory way will lead only to civil tension?"

I tuned back into the conversation for a few minutes, frowning when Jean sighed. _They're talking about actually initializing Wide Awake, aren't they?_ She didn't respond, but she did project her own worries about the situation. _I heard rumors that some of the Sentinel production locations were back online_.

The revelation surprised her so greatly that she sat up sharply. A wave of telepathic static rumbled throughout the room and I watched, intrigued, as the men and women partaking in the meeting glanced around for a moment, as though confused. But, soon they were arguing amongst themselves again, the strange sensation immediately forgotten.

Despite the distance, I saw McCoy's blue eyes narrow in on Jean's form for the briefest of seconds before he diligently cleaned his glasses with a handkerchief and launched into another short speech.

**You're sure?**

_I'm sure I've __**heard**__ a rumor. But, no – I haven't been able to verify anything. Just the grapevine. Water cooler talk, you know how that is._

**Your news is quite alarming, Danielle. The Professor hasn't so much as mentioned the Sentinels in months. I was under the impression that they were no longer of any concern to us.**

I shrugged my shoulders and ran my hand through my dark locks jerkily. My thoughts ran wild as I considered all of the repercussions. _I'm flying blind now, too. I'm sure Fury, meaning SHIELD, is still watching me and keeping an eye on me. But, I can't even tap any of my usual resources._ Except for one, but I wasn't entirely sure if she was even on my side. _I really screwed up with Fury, Jean_.

**Do not dwell on it. Scott and I are quite proud of you, you know.**

_Really?_ I furrowed my brow in her direction and felt my cheeks heat slightly at the pride and adoration evident in her expression. _Trying to change the subject, huh? _After a moment's hesitation, curiosity got the best of me. _What the hell for?_

Her green eyes lightened slightly as her lips curled into a smile. **We all saw the promise in you, Danielle. We all saw the leader that you could come to be. But, you chose to walk a different path than most of the others.** She looked away suddenly and I studied her profile, a thoughtful frown upon my lips. **We struggle to show our students that there **_**is**_** more to the world than being a mutant; choosing between living a normal life and a life as an X-Man. So very few understand that there is a way to tread that line.**

I'd turned down the uniform and a chance to lead the new generation of X-Men the day I had graduated from the Xavier Institute. I had surprised everyone, including myself, when I'd decided that I had wished to join the Police Academy. But, no one had ever begrudged me my decision.

Scott had even hugged me.

The jerk-of-a-guy that had overseen most of my training (mostly the weight loss and get-in-shape-portion) had hugged me.

But, I hadn't expected the decision to make anybody proud.

**No one was surprised when SHIELD recruited you.**

_No doubt,_ I agreed, shaking my head. It was hard to focus on the conversation up on the stage, but I understood enough to know that Hank was fighting a losing battle. _Mutant with a background in police work? Pretty much a win-win situation_.

**Until the Director realized that your loyalties would always lay elsewhere, at least**.

And that was the truth of the matter. I'd respected Fury and the mission of SHIELD and had been willing to put my life on the line for any mission and any other agent. But, Charles Xavier and the X-Men had always been my number one concern.

And although I'd kept my contact with Xavier to a minimum – and I'd used a go-between and the most secure technology I could get my hands on – Fury had still found out. Despite the time that had passed since my arrival at the Institute with Creed and LeBeau, I still couldn't quite figure out how Fury had discovered the truth.

Other than Xavier, McCoy, and my tech expert, no one had known of my plans or my so-called loose lips.

So, who had betrayed me?

_What's the plan after Hank's done up there?_

**He's meeting with someone back at our hotel room. I thought you and I could use the opportunity to visit the hotel's spa.**

_Spa_? I closed my eyes for a moment and considered the blissful ramifications of a day at the spa. _I can't even remember the last time I had a spa day. But why?_

**I have wanted to spend some time with you for awhile now**, she admitted, surprising me yet again. **We grew close when you were at the Academy and then your time with the force. But, your correspondence dropped off once SHIELD recruited you.**

I felt guilty, of course. _I'm sorry, Jean._

**Don't be. I understand. Completely. **Several men on stage clapped loudly and I glanced toward Scott briefly before I focused on my hands in my lap. **Scott and I… Well, I guess we've always looked at you sort of like one of our own.**

_You're too young to be my mom_, I thought with a vague frown.

**I know, I know. But, you've kind of become an extended member of our little family. I look at you and I remember Alkali Lake and I –**

I jerked upright sharply and the back of the chair in front of me suffered for it. Without even thinking, I gripped the upholstered chair and it gave under my fingertips. I quickly withdrew my hands and folded them together within my lap, but the damage had been done.

**No one noticed.**

Nodding, I leaned back in the seat and crossed and uncrossed my legs several times nervously. I wanted to exit the large meeting hall immediately, but it wasn't exactly an option. There were members of the Secret Service posted at every door and a bathroom break wasn't enough reason for them to allow me to leave.

Not that they could stop me if I really wanted to go.

_I don't want to talk about Alkali, Jean. Not now, not ever._

**I am sorry for what happened, for everything that I did to you**. Her mental touch was even lighter, if that was at all possible. **You stopped being a girl that day and you turned into a woman. A brave and confident and very powerful woman, but a woman nonetheless. You deserved to have traveled the road to full maturity at a much slower rate. **

_You pushed me to realize my full potential._

**If I hadn't inadvertently jump-started your mutation, you would have bled out in front of me. I had your blood on my hands.** She hesitantly placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed, and I was horrified by the moisture that tickled my eyelids. **I haven't told Scott, but I remember seeing you fly out of the back of the Blackbird. But, I was trapped inside of myself and couldn't do anything to help you.**

Nightmares of flying through the air to land in the water had plagued me since that day. I remembered all too well the sensation of drowning before I first lifted into the air, before I flew for the very first time.

_You told me, everyone, that you didn't remember anything other than bits and pieces._

**Only because I was ashamed. Now, however, I think you deserve the truth. And my heartfelt apology for hurting you so deeply. **

I wondered what she wanted from me. _I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago. I knew then just as I know now that you didn't hurt me on purpose._

Her hand tightened around mine and I hazarded a glance in her direction. Tears leaked down her cheeks and she wiped them away quickly with her other hand, but not before I saw them. Green eyes met mine as a great sigh shook through her frame.

**I wish I had your strength, Danielle. Truly, I do.**

I wanted her intelligence, her classic beauty, her abilities… But, most of all, I wanted her to be happy. _I wouldn't mind thinking of you as family, you know._ Surprise flitted across her features as she lifted a brow in speculation. _Not my mother, not my sister, but maybe an aunt._

**I'd be honored.**

"If that is the way that this committee wishes to approach the issue, I must say that I am appalled! As a known mutant, I find it preposterous that the government that protects the fine people of this country would seek to hunt me down." Henry McCoy removed his glasses and cleaned them, obviously rattled. "I can assure you that such a step would incite outrage and fear within the mutant community."

"Is that a threat, McCoy?" a silver-haired man demanded. "The US government is fully prepared to initiate Wide Awake to protect its interests. Our military is in place to protect our citizens from all threats; _domestic_ and foreign."

_I'm not one for abusing my gifts but – oh hell, I am. You might want to calm them down, Jean._

**I am**. On cue, the large group of men settled down noticeably, but there was still an air of animosity that was more than evident within the room. **This isn't good, Danielle. **

_You can say that again. _


	10. Chapter Ten

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Ten~**_

"I was beginning to think that we would never get any time alone, my dear."

I hid the grimace behind my mug of beer and toasted Hank McCoy as he slid into the booth across from me. He was still dressed in clothing appropriate for his meetings, sans jacket and tie, and his blue eyes were bloodshot.

"What's your poison?"

He sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes, but didn't even glance at the hotel bar's drink menu. "A brandy sounds quite refreshing, I'll admit."

Judging by the bartender's facial expression and the reaction of several of the other patrons and waitresses, I knew it was unlikely that anyone would reappear to take his order. I finished off the rest of my beer and slid out of the booth smoothly and brushed dark hair back out of my eyes.

"I'll be right back."

I sidled up to the bar and slid onto a bar stool next to a nondescript man that looked suited for lobbying or any other job on the Hill. He spared me a single glance before he sipped his martini and focused his attention on the buxom blonde on the other side of him.

When the bartender realized that I wasn't going to simply disappear, he paused in front of me with a dark brow uplifted. "Can I get you something?"

"Another beer for me, frosted glass, please." He reached down and produced a frosted mug before pouring me a beer from the tap. "And a glass of your best brandy." There was obvious surprise in his dark eyes, but I didn't follow his gaze as he glanced over my shoulder at my companion. "Is there a problem?"

"No ma'am," the bartender replied immediately. He retrieved a glass and dropped three cubes of ice in it before he poured in an amber liquid. Slowly, he pushed both the glass and the mug across the expanse of the bar to me. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Do you have a dinner menu, by chance?" I tucked the menu under one arm and gathered up the drinks in my hands and offered the man a polite smile. "Thanks."

The man next to me muttered a rather snide and prejudiced comment under his breath, but I chose to ignore him as I made my way back to the booth and Hank. The blue-furred mutant cradled his head within his hands and sighed heavily when I sat the glass of brandy down in front of him.

"Many thanks, dear heart." He lifted his head as I slid in across from him and tossed the menu on the table. His blue eyes darted from my face to the menu and back again. "You do not mind my company, do you?"

I sipped at my beer and licked the moisture from my lips before I offered him a wry grin. "Given the day you've had, I'd be an absolute brat to not want to keep you company. Did you not want your brandy on the rocks?"

"What? Oh." Hank shook his head as he lifted the delicate glass to his lips to sip greedily. The drink seemed to fortify him; after emptying about half of the contents of the glass, his shoulders sagged slightly.

I searched his face, but wasn't quite sure what I was even looking for. An answer, likely, for everything that had happened in recent years.

"You did not accompany Scott and Jean to dinner tonight?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" I quipped lightly, shrugging my shoulders. "Jean and I spent the a couple hours at the hotel spa. I figured she wanted some alone time with him." Even a blind man would have seen the way that he'd kept glancing at her when we'd walked out of the spa – Jean sporting a new chic hairstyle and a glowing face. "They don't take enough time away from the School."

"Some people do not think of themselves."

"And other people are way too damn selfish."

Hank smiled at that, partially revealing sharp incisors. Then, his smile fell flat. "Danielle, I want to apologize for –"

"No need to apologize," I interrupted, inhaling sharply. I wasn't a telepath, but I knew what he planned to apologize for. "I was the one that approached you and offered you my services to begin with. I knew damn well that there was always a chance that I could get discovered." Shrugging, I sipped at my beer. "I guess I'm just lucky that I'm not in some SHIELD jail right now."

"If it is any consolation, your intel saved the lives of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent mutants." His smile was warm, but it did not quite reach his eyes. "Charles and I were able to –"

"Excuse me," a feminine voice interrupted.

Hank and I both glanced up at the same time, so I didn't get a chance to see his reaction at the woman's sudden appearance. I, however, swallowed thickly and ran my eyes down the length of her before meeting her bright blue eyes warily.

"What an unexpected surprise," Hank drawled, rising to his feet immediately. Though he towered over the woman, she didn't seem the slightest bit intimidated as he took her smaller hand within his to give it a gentle squeeze. "Won't you join us?"

_Say no_, I thought to myself as I drank another sip of beer. _For the love of all that is holy, please say no_.

"Sure."

She slid into the seat across from me and Hank slid in next to her. He looked like a giant, overgrown blue bear next to her petite frame, but she exuded a confidence that couldn't be matched by his intimidating features.

"It's good to see you again, Dani."

"Wish I could say the same to you, Aubs."

She smiled, but I didn't miss the way her eyes flashed. "How cozy, the three of us here in a hotel bar in DC. Who would have guessed?"

I had always suspected that she knew Hank far better than she had ever let on, but I'd never had reason to question her. She'd been my go-between, the safest avenue I'd ever used. She was a mutant and her ability allowed her to communicate with electronics, including computers, in the most unique way known to man.

She could also fry a man with bolts of electricity that shot from her very fingertips.

"Would you like me to order you a drink?"

Aubrey glanced over at Hank before she grabbed his glass. Her eyes never left his as she finished off the rest of his brandy, and he seemed amused. "I'll have whatever you're having," she murmured as she pushed the empty glass toward him.

"I'll be right back," I grunted, slamming back the rest of my beer. Due to my healing ability, it didn't do much to alleviate the annoyance or calm my nerves, but it tasted good going down. "And I'm going to put in an order for some appetizers."

I strolled back toward the bar with two empty mugs and a glass of ice and slid back onto the same bar stool as before. Unfortunately, the same ignorant jerk still occupied the other seat; the buxom blonde was nowhere in sight.

"Back already?"

Nodding, I pushed the empty glasses toward the bartender and watched as he put them into a tray next to the sink. "Another beer and make it two glasses of brandy this time around, please. A friend showed up." The man next to me snorted in derision, but I focused on the bartender. "Can I order appetizers at the bar or do I need to flag down a waitress?"

Though the bartender sighed, he managed to nod jerkily. "I can take the order here and send it through the POS system. What do you want?"

"Got one of those sample platters?" He nodded as he poured me a fresh beer. "We'll take one of those and an order of hot wings. Make it two orders," I corrected when I considered Hank's voracious appetite. He paused long enough to fiddle with an order screen before he poured two glasses of brandy and handed them over. "Thanks."

When I reached for the drinks, the man next to me spun on his bar stool sharply. He bumped into me and nearly caused me to knock over my beer.

"So the question is what a sweet thing like yourself is doing with a couple of freaks." He flashed me a devilish smile, revealing straight white teeth that were too perfect to be natural. "Unless, of course, you're part of the freak brigade."

I managed a smile of my own and slowly ran my eyes from the tip of his hair all the way down, pausing briefly on his chest and crotch. When I met his eyes again, I found a challenge within their depths. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"You could."

The snort that escaped me wasn't at all ladylike, but I didn't care. It had been a very long day and I didn't have the patience to deal with his idiocy. "I would rather go without sex for all of my life so that I shrivel up and die than come within five feet of anything it is you believe you have to offer." I gathered up the drinks and slid off of the bar stool in one smooth motion, pausing when he put an arm out to stop me. "Excuse me."

He leaned in close, so close that I could feel his hot breath on the side of my neck. "You'd rather that animal ran his big, furry hands over you, huh? Bet you'd rather he bent you over like an animal than –" he let out a hiss of frustration when I poured my glass of beer over his head and sat the empty glass down on the bar. "You fucking bitch!"

"Now, now," I chastised, clucking my tongue. "No means no."

He grabbed my wrist and I reacted instinctively. Training kicked in as I twisted my hand in his grasp to wrap my fingers around his forearm. Before he could react, I forcefully jerked his arm and spun him, pushing his chest against the bar with his hand pinned against his back. He howled, either in pain or frustration, and I balanced the two glasses of brandy in my free hand as I leaned in closer.

"I'm an off-duty police officer, you stupid prick," I bit out, restraining my own strength. The comment wasn't entirely false, either – as an agent of SHIELD, I had maintained my position as a police officer in New York City. But, their records indicated that I was a liaison to the federal government. I still had a badge, and I carried it on me at all times. "If you don't call yourself a cab and get out of my face, I'm going to charge you with assault."

He hissed, but eventually muttered his compliance. After a beat, I released my hold on his hand and took a step back. He spun around sharply and the utter hate and despise on his face was enough to make me take another step back. Half-expecting him to draw back on me, I watched him suspiciously as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. He withdrew several bills and tossed them onto the bar before grabbing several napkins and hurrying toward the lobby, leaving a trail of beer behind him.

Most of the bar's occupants, I realized, had watched the entire exchange. I rolled my shoulders and eyed the bartender skeptically as he slid a fresh mug of beer toward me, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Your appetizers should be out shortly," he assured me as I picked up my beer. "Sorry about the trouble, officer."

I nodded and spun on my heel to hurry back to the booth. To my relief, no one said anything to me on the short return trip. Two sets of blue eyes, differing in size and hue, stared at me as I slid into the booth and sat all three drinks down.

I drank a long pull from the mug of beer and savored the rich flavor for a moment before I sat the mug down and sighed. I kept my shoulders back as I let my eyes dance between their faces.

"You're still not very good at making friends, are you?"

"And you're still a pain in the ass, Aubs," I retorted, eliciting a snort from the woman in question. "I put in an order for some appetizers because I get the feeling that this little impromptu meeting is more than coincidence and interesting timing."

Hank's lips curled into a grin, but he ignored his drink as he leaned back slightly and shook his head. "It is imperative that I know everything you know."

"What I know?" I repeated, a brow quirked in challenge. "I fed you every scrap of intel through your buddy here," I nodded at Aubs, "as I could. What more could I possibly tell you?"

The laughter in his eyes was immediately banked, only to be replaced with concern and seriousness. "The SRU, Danielle."

"The Superhuman Response Unit," I murmured, doubt lacing my voice. "You already know everything about the SRU, Hank."

Their silence was unnerving. What was even more unnerving, however, was the way that Aubrey licked her lips before she picked up her glass of brandy in order to sip at it. Slowly, she sat the glass back down on the table and folded her hands together. I found myself staring at her hands, at her black nail polish, and wondering what exactly was going on.

"The problem is," she began, voice pitched low, "that _you_ don't know everything about the SRU. In fact, once you started to get close to the truth, they blacklisted you."

"What?"

"The SRU was created to respond to Superhuman calamities, namely mutants. Do you not find it strange that you, of all people, were the one put in charge of the recent investigation regarding Creed and LeBeau?" Hank paused long enough to search my face, but I did my best to keep my features blank. "I believe that SHIELD was interested in the case because they are attempting to locate the man or men behind the linked crimes, Danielle. The evidence leads the Professor, and myself, to believe that whoever is behind the crimes is searching out weaknesses within the mutant population."

Dumbfounded, I could only stare. After a moment, I forced myself to drink several sips of beer. "You're joking."

"I wish I were, dear heart. Unfortunately, there is reason to believe that someone within SHIELD, or a liaison to SHIELD, defected. They are now acting of their own free will and continuing their research in a most vulgar manner."

Aubrey snorted and rolled her electric blue eyes. "That's putting it mildly." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. "Look, I've known Fury long enough to recognize when he's trying to shut me out of something. And to be honest, it's a pretty impossible task. I can access any scrap of data anywhere and anytime. But, physical hard copies are impossible to replace."

"So this is all speculation?"

"It was," she sighed and shook her head. "It was until I found a record of a scientist that had been working with SHIELD since it was founded during the very beginning of World War II. So, you'd think that the scientist would have passed away by now or, at the very least, be old as time, right?" She didn't even give me a chance to respond before she smacked the palm of her hand against the table. "Wrong!"

"So?"

"So, this scientist specializes in genetics. The public might not know him, but the scientific world, like Hank, has heard his name for years. He published some of the earliest works about mutation, long before your Professor was even a thought in his dad's left nut."

"That's disgusting."

Hank sighed and shook his head. "Agreed. However, Aubrey does have a point, my dear. SHIELD has records of the man's existence almost as far back as they've been able to trace Logan. Some of his work accompanied one of their earliest projects: the Super Soldier Program."

I frowned, but didn't quite know what to say. "And you know that I was briefed on it, so I'm not sure exactly what you want me to say."

The blue-furred politician searched my face for several beats before he half-smiled, the action forced and weak. "The SRU was created as a means to test the limitations of the mutant populace. Aubrey here has found intel that links several of the founding members of the SRU to the defected scientist's research. We believe he attempted, on more than one occasion, to infuse a being by lacing the mutant-x-gene with abilities that are solely mutant by nature into subjects that did not contain the x-gene."

"So he was experimenting on humans?"

"Non-mutants is the proper terminology."

"Whatever, Hank." With a sigh, I rubbed my hands over my face and wondered exactly how in the hell I'd never seen any sign that what he said was the truth. But, I knew Henry McCoy well enough to know that he would never approach me with any information that he did not completely believe in or back one hundred percent. "All of those disappearances, all of those dead mutants… They worked with the scientist in the past, so they're trying to cover their tracks. Makes sense, too much sense."

"I am sorry, Danielle, if it is any consolation. I know how seriously you took your position as an agent and a liaison between the X-Men and the SRU. You are – you _were_ – an excellent field agent, dear heart. But, in the end, I am afraid that the Director used you, and the others, as pawns."

I didn't say a word as I reached across the table and grabbed his glass of brandy. His blue eyes narrowed slightly as I drank the remaining contents of the glass, downing it in just a few unladylike gulps. All I could think of was whether or not my entire career with SHIELD – short though it had been – had been a complete waste of time.

It also made sense as to why Aubrey had given Fury all the evidence he needed to can me. The famed Voltic had been my go-between and had willingly turned me in because she knew the truth. Either she'd aimed to get me out of SHIELD because she'd known the truth, or she had simply turned on me.

"You know," I grunted, sliding out of the booth. "This information would have been a lot more useful if it had been passed along to me, say, before you got me fired. But, hey, I guess you did what you thought was best, Aubs." I offered her a two-finger salute and ducked out of the way as the waitress appeared with three large platters of appetizers on her serving tray. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

I ignored Aubrey's attempt to call me back to the table as I stalked toward the bar and pulled a slim feminine wallet out of my front pocket. I withdrew several twenty dollar bills and tossed them toward the bartender. It was enough to cover the drinks and part of the cost of appetizers, and I could only assume that Hank would pick up the rest of the tab.

Thankful, not for the first time, that I had my own room, I exited the hotel bar and headed for the bay of elevators. I hit the call button and ignored the vibrating of my cell phone for several beats.

Sighing, I pulled it out of my pocket and eyed the display screen for a moment before I hit the _ignore_ button. "I think I'm done with people for the day." I stepped into the elevator and ignored the strange look that a businessman offered me out of the corner of his eye. "Don't look at me."

I had no idea what to think or even what to feel. So, instead, I focused on pushing down the annoyance and frustration that filled my gut. _As if I didn't already have enough on my plate_, I thought to myself, shaking my head. The elevator door slid open and I stepped out onto the eleventh floor where my room was located.

I slid the electronic card in the lock and pushed open the door, only to swear when I caught sight of the familiar figure lounging in a chair in the corner. Exhaling, I slammed the heavy door behind me and stalked further into the room with an air of annoyance.

"What do _you_ want, Natasha?"


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author's Note:** I have had several readers PM me asking if Dani is going to start liking Sabretooth... The answer is, definitively, yes! We're laying the foundation now for whatever it is that sizzles between them. I can assure all of you that the moment we are waiting for is only a few short chapters away... And I can promise that it will be worth the wait!

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Eleven~**_

"You can leave any time, you know."

She smiled and I found myself wondering just how many men – and women – had caved and given her everything she'd requested simply because of that same smile. But, it wouldn't work on me, and she knew it.

"I offer you the deal of a lifetime and you choose to pass it up, Danielle." She clucked her tongue and tucked dark red hair behind her ear. I rose from the chair and crossed the room to sit down on the edge of the king size bed. Her eyes were on me as I unzipped one boot and then the other and toed them off. "Fury will not be pleased."

"He's never pleased," I reminded her as I threw a boot in her direction. It landed on the floor at her feet, but she barely spared it a glance. "Fury gave me the boot without any hesitation whatsoever. I'm not stupid."

"You're stupid enough to meet with a known SHIELD operative and a politician in a very public place."

"You're stupid enough to try to push a woman with superhuman strength." I gritted my teeth and glared at her. "Get out of my room before I throw you through a Goddamn wall."

Her laughter was as familiar as it was unnerving, but I continued to glare at her as I ran my hands through my long and dark hair. If there was one thing that the woman excelled at, it was annoying the shit out of me.

"You are passing up on the opportunity of a lifetime. Do you realize that?"

"I bet you don't realize that they gave me that same speech when Coulson and Hill recruited me, do you?" With a snort, I leaned back, palms braced on the bed and eyes narrowed on her lithe form. It wouldn't do, I knew, to underestimate her in any manner whatsoever. "I've given all I care to give to SHIELD and to Fury. I was read out and I don't care to be read back in."

"And what," she murmured, voice laced with the accent she usually tried so hard to eliminate, "would you say if I told you that Fury told me that he had overreacted?"

I snorted again, rolling my eyes. "Fury's name and the word overreact are practically synonyms, Natasha. If he is so gung ho to sign me back on, why isn't he here himself?"

I searched her face, but she betrayed nothing. Despite my police training and my specific training within SHIELD for the SRU, I couldn't find any signs. I wondered, however briefly, if someone with enhanced senses like Wolverine could have picked up a change in pulse or breathing.

"Exactly." I rose to my feet in one smooth fluid motion to hover several inches off of the floor. I paced the air in irritation, bare feet walking an invisible line in the air. "You watch the Institute. I'm not foolish enough to believe that you'd ever let Xavier have exactly what he wants. So, word got back that someone had left the grounds, and in a hurry, in one of the jets. A cursory check would place me with the others on the Capitol earlier today. Two and two makes four."

I turned on my heel, still hovering several inches in the air, and folded my arms over my chest. But, Natasha still said nothing. She sat stone still, the picture of relaxation and intimidation in a wing back chair that did little to put me at ease.

"For the sake of our former working relationship, I will say that your intel is correct." She lifted a brow at my admission, but said nothing. "Dozens of powerful and influential politicians attended an important and private meeting wherein the _mutant problem_ and the possibility of Project: Wide Awake were discussed. Does that answer your question?"

For the first time, there was a chink in the woman's impenetrable armor. She furrowed her brows together and her lips thinned as her green eyes darted from my face down to where my feet hovered over the floor and back again.

"You do not sound so surprised, Danielle."

With a sigh, I floated down so that my feet touched down on the carpeted floor. "Considering that I worked closely with the SRU – the very same group commissioned to deal with the _mutant problem_ – and had my own contacts, is it really that surprising? Of course I know what the PWA is, Natasha. And I also know that SHIELD has had its hand in _that_ particular cookie jar for a number of years."

"It is a protective measure, of course."

"If by protective you mean unnecessary, dangerous, and threatening – then yes."

Natasha slowly pushed to her feet, displaying an agility that I had seen her use to disarm and dispatch of twenty armed men in the same room. Her green eyes narrowed, but her lips curled into a seemingly innocent smile.

"You could make a real difference if you were to reconsider, Danielle. SHIELD has unlimited resources."

"SHIELD used me from day one," I stated calmly. Amazed that I was so calm, given the unbelievable circumstances, I could only stand a bit taller and prouder. "I knew that, I always knew that. But, at the time, I could use my position for my own personal gain. I have no use for SHIELD anymore."

She ran a hand over her hair and I half-expected her to produce a lethal weapon from somewhere on her person. While I had no doubt that she was seriously packing, she did not attempt to attack me. Instead, she produced a plain business card and placed it on the black entertainment center next to the television.

"Should you change your mind, SHIELD could always use another agent such as you. Goodbye, Danielle."

She strolled toward the door and pulled it open, pausing only long enough to glance over her shoulder at me. If she expected me to say something, she was disappointed when I only stared at her. The moment that the door clicked shut behind her, I fell heavily onto the bed, arms and legs sprawled out.

I stared up at the ceiling and tried to remind myself that in spite of everything, my time with SHIELD had been beneficial. I had learned so much and I had grown as an individual. I had supplied information to Hank and Xavier that had saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. I had learned more about technology and the way the darker side of the world walked than I ever would have if I had stayed with the X-Men upon my graduation from the Institute.

My time at the police academy had been tumultuous. I had excelled in the physical aspects of the Academy's requirements, but I had struggled with the mental and emotional aspects. I hadn't been comfortable with the other trainees, always secretly afraid that they would discover that their seemingly normal friend Danielle was a mutant.

The Academy had never voiced a negative opinion about mutants in general, but several of the trainees had voiced their own opinions. Hate ran rampant and talk of _keeping muties_ in line had almost been as popular as talk of the next football game.

No, I had struggled to make personal connections with strangers after leaving the Institute. I'd had too little time to adjust to the fact that I was a mutant before I'd removed myself from a situation wherein I was constantly surrounded by others that shared the same unique genetic difference that I carried within me. And, suddenly, I was around strangers; some of whom shared the same hatred and ignorance that I had feared all of my life.

But, I'd been so determined to see things through to the end that I'd thrown myself into training and learning everything about being the best police officer. I aced the exams, set new records for physical exploits, and shaped my body into something that the drill officer Scott Summers would have been proud to see. Yet, things hadn't seemed real until I'd graduated from the Academy.

I received recommendations from all of the training officers to any large department in the country. Given the proximity to the Institute, and therefore Marie, I'd chosen the New York City Police Department.

The first year had been the roughest, that much I knew for sure. I spent all of my time doing paperwork and riding shotgun with an asshole that was forty-five pounds overweight and of the opinion that women didn't belong on the police force to begin with. He drank coffee like it was water, ate greasy food and anything with high sodium, and made disgusting comments about tits whenever he could.

But, if there was anything that Harold Gill had taught me, it was the fact that there are always going to be assholes in the world.

I'd climbed the ranks steadily, but not so quickly as to draw any unwanted attention. I didn't need as much sleep as my fellow officers, so I was able to work doubles and triples without any ill effects. I did paperwork for my senior partners and researched cases on my own time and made friends with the men and women in the Computer Crimes and Investigation Department.

When the Captain stuck me on patrol with a new partner, a guy six years older than me, I'd been happy. Anyone would have been better than my former partners, and Bartholomew Jackson had seemed like the perfect partner. We worked the late shift together and spent more time in a cruiser than we did behind a desk. We went to the range together on a weekly basis and grabbed breakfast together at least a couple times a week.

I smiled as I stared up at the ceiling and remembered how well the two of us had meshed together. We'd worked so well together that we got a reputation within the department for one of the highest arrest rates. We responded to any call within our vicinity and handled every situation with _by the book _perfection.

_At least, _I thought to myself_, we did handle everything by the book. Until I got Bart killed_.

No matter how much time passed, I knew that I'd never forgive myself for his death.

Never.

Less than six months after his death, several disciplinary hearings, and more than one threat from my superiors about losing my badge and my gun, I'd left the department. I'd given the force every ounce of my attention and commitment, but they'd turned on me.

Phil Coulson and Maria Hill had approached me at a watering hole near my apartment two weeks after I'd handed in my badge.

And I'd never looked back.

"Now I've gone full circle," I realized, slowly sitting up.

When I had graduated the Institute, I had left to pursue my goal of becoming a police officer so that I could serve and protect the innocent. I had wanted to use my strengths to keep people save and put the bad guys behind bars. Despite the offer from Scott, I had declined leading the Bravo Team of the X-Men. I had walked away from the opportunity to be an X-Man.

Now, however, I had to wonder if perhaps it was time to broach the topic with Scott and Xavier once and for all.

If there was one place I could belong, it was with the X-Men. Given the lies and deceit and everything that had happened, I wasn't even sure if there was still a place for me. But, there was only one way to find out.

"Later," I decided with a shake of my head. "I need to get something to eat."

Since the rooms were on Xavier, I wisely walked toward the phone to call for room service.

Then I planned to turn my attention to the mini bar.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author's Note:** Danielle Evans is probably one of the most diversified original characters I've ever written. (At least, in my mind.) I hope that too many people aren't upset by the fact that she hasn't taken Creed for the ride of his life – yet. I promise we're building in that direction and that this chapter itself is simply important in the overall plot of the story. Yes, the plot _does_ center around Danielle and Creed, but I can promise that's only the tip of the iceberg. Also, please note that I'm about as fashionable as Dani and have no idea what sort of dress she was describing. It might not actually exist anywhere, but that's the glory of stories!

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Twelve~**_

I smiled in spite of myself as Jean twirled in a quick circle. I felt awkward as I sunk lower into the pristine white couch, but I couldn't manage to disappear from sight.

"What about this one?"

She spun around to face the multitude of mirrors and I stared at her back and fought the urge to sigh. The last time I had sighed had been five dresses ago, and she'd been none too happy. So, I hid the confusion and frustration and shrugged my shoulders.

"Looks pretty."

"I want to look perfect, Dani," she reminded me as she spun back around to face me. The skirt of the wedding gown fanned around her magnificently. "I know you don't want to be here, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to look for a dress. This is the first time I've had… well, I've had the opportunity to actually look. Ororo simply cannot get away from the Institute today to help me look for my dress. I want an honest opinion from a woman, from a friend."

I couldn't begrudge her _some _amount of happiness and excitement, but I simply did not know what to say. The clerk, a petite woman with classic features and kind eyes, offered me an understanding smile as she adjusted the clamps on the back of the sample dress Jean wore. "I think it looks magnificent on you, Jean," the woman complimented with a bright smile. "What do you think Oliver?"

The man in question, dressed in a flattering, if odd, dark gray suit with a subtle blue shirt and a fashionable hairstyle, smiled as well. He put a hand to his chin and stared at Jean's figure thoughtfully before he slowly shook his head. "Everything we've put her in looks magnificent, but nothing is _perfect. _I have an idea."

He crossed the fitting area and grabbed me by my hand. I resisted as he tried to tug me to my feet, relenting only when a look of utter confusion crossed his features. Sighing, I allowed him to drag me out of the fitting area and out a door that led to a series of maze-like corridors. He chattered about Jean's classic figure and fair complexion and red hair until I felt the urge to shove him through a wall.

"I have an idea that includes you, Danielle," he confessed as he pulled me into a room. I glanced around warily at the sight of hundreds upon hundreds of sample dresses hanging from racks around the room. "You know your friend far better than I ever could. I want you to close your eyes and picture her walking down the aisle."

"You're serious?" I inquired, brow lifting when he nodded. "Look, I'm not the most fashionable person around –"

"_That _much is painfully obvious, dearest." Though he frowned, his eyes remained friendly. I fought the urge to glance down at myself, all too aware of the brand new pair of corduroy pants and the light pink blouse that Jean had bought for me just hours before. The boots were the most comfortable and familiar part of the ensemble, but they had four-inch heels that turned supple leather into dangerous stilts. "But, she is _your_ friend."

Jean _was _my friend. When Hank and Scott had left for a meeting of some sort, she had dragged me to breakfast and then a flurry of shopping had occurred. My own bank account was nowhere near the mark that was required for the expensive items she had purchased for me. But, I'd been wise enough to bite my tongue and allow her to buy me things that she'd liked because it had made her happy.

Ororo hadn't been able to make it into the city to attend the last-minute appointment Jean had made at an upscale wedding dress shop. Something had inspired Jean, however, so I hadn't had much of a choice whatsoever.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked Oliver. After all, he _was_ the expert. "I want her to be happy."

"Of course you do!" He placed his hands on my shoulders and led me to a corner filled with glorious classic white lace dresses. "Now, I want you to close your eyes. Go on, do it." After a beat, I complied. I felt silly, but I closed my eyes obediently. "I want you to picture her wedding day. Don't think of the guests or the flowers or any other aspect of the wedding ceremony itself. Picture yourself watching her walk down the aisle. What do you see?"

It felt like a silly exercise, but I put effort into it nonetheless. I sighed as I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and struggled to bring the picture to life. After a few moments, a vision of Jean began to appear in my mind.

She wore her hair up in a beautiful up-twist, a veil tucked in that trailed behind her majestically. A single diamond solitaire sat in the delicate apex of her throat, the gold chain so thin that it was nearly invisible to the eye.

Her dress was elegant, classic – completely Jean. It was strapless and lace. The bottom appeared to be asymmetrical, fluttering out delicately in gentle ruffles that were beaded with tiny rhinestones in a handsome pattern. And there was a rhinestone clasp around her waist that accentuated her figure. The clasp resembled a thin belt and it held a shockingly clear emerald-type stone flat against her abdomen.

When I opened my eyes, Oliver smiled at me in a very knowing manner. I swallowed thickly and blinked a few times to clear away the image that had come to me so strongly and wondered why I'd been able to picture it so easily.

"Well?"

Lifting a hand to scratch the back of my head, I shrugged halfheartedly. "I don't know. Something classic." There was no wrong answer to the question, I assumed. I forced my legs into motion and began to look through the overly large selection of dresses available in the room. "I think she would like something strapless, as well. She has great shoulders."

Not to mention, of course, that most of the female members of the X-Men had excellent figures, and Jean was no exception. While she wasn't as amply gifted as some of the other women, she was certainly well toned and shapely enough.

"Definitely has to be lace though," I added. I pushed dresses around to dig deeper into the piles as I continued to walk around the room. "Some glitz, but nothing too fancy. I bet…"

My eyes widened to the size of saucers as I jerked my hand back sharply. I staggered a bit as I reached forward and gently tugged a dress out from where it was wedged tightly between two other dresses. Immediately, I had to wonder if I had seen it somehow when I had entered the room; I dismissed the notion when I realized that it had been buried behind other dresses so well that there was simply no way that I'd seen it whatsoever.

"Ah, that is a very beautiful gown." I stepped aside as Oliver swept forward and quickly pulled the gown, which was tucked in a clear garment bag, out of its wedged-in position. "We only carry a few of this particular label. It's a very small family outfit from a little village outside of Venice that crafts the gowns, lace and all. Because of the extensive work necessary, few of our customers even know the label exists. It is a popular style, though." He swung the dress around in front of him as though he were envisioning it on himself rather than on Jean. "But, there is something about it that captures the senses."

I could only nod as I followed him out of the room and back through the maze of corridors. We passed a few soon-to-be brides on our way, but nobody paid any attention to us whatsoever. When we were back in the fitting area, Jean was nowhere to be seen. I sank down onto the couch as Oliver skittered toward the changing room.

Closing my eyes, I ran my hands through my dark hair and wondered if Jean would like my selection. Even though Scott and Jean had been engaged for so long, the thought of them actually getting married seemed somewhat strange to me. Privately, I couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't gotten married sooner. It was obvious that they loved one another completely and other than a few rumors about Logan's advances before my arrival at the Institute my senior year, I had never heard of any rifts between the two.

**Danielle**, Jean brushed against my mind gently. The sensation was so wistful and shockingly loving that my chest ached in response. **I cannot believe this**.

I opened my eyes and watched Jean step out of the small fitting room and out into the fitting area with the happiest smile curling her lips. Goose pimples prickled my flesh as she stepped onto the slightly raised dais and ran her fingers over the delicate fabric of the gown. There were no clamps on the back of the dress; I took notice of the delicate pearl buttons that were accented by more rhinestones that ran from her mid-back down most of the way.

She spun in a slow circle and tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at me in wonder. The dress that I'd imagined her wearing in my head fit her like a dream. I rose to my feet and smiled meekly as she stepped off of the dais and threw herself at me, hugging me fiercely. Super strength or not, I nearly staggered back a step as I caught her in an embrace that went from awkward to happy in the space of a mere few seconds.

Jean took a step back and dabbed at her eyes, sniffing slightly as Oliver and his companion complimented her quietly. "It's absolutely perfect, Dani. It is beautiful and it feels like it was made for me."

"The hem needs to be done up just a bit, but other than a few minor adjustments, it's a perfect fit." Oliver walked over and placed a pale hand on Jean's forearm and squeezed gently. "Your groom will be completely besotted with you, if he isn't already."

She laughed happily as she continued to admire the dress, her voice taking on a dreamy tone as she spoke with Oliver and the clerk. I wasn't at all surprised when she happily agreed to order the dress and pay for a solid chunk of it up front. I did, however, grimace at the ghastly figure that Oliver named off. Jean didn't even bat an eye.

"I'm finally ready to set the date," she whispered to me when the clerk and Oliver left us alone to make arrangements. "I want to get married outdoors. I want to get married in Ororo's beautiful gardens." Her green eyes lit up in anticipation as she stared at her reflection in the mirror happily, looking every bit the part of the expectant bride. "May 25th."

My first instinct was to laugh, but I quickly realized that she was not joking. I shook my head. "Jean, that's just over a month away. A month. I didn't think it was possible to plan a wedding in a month?"

"Scott and I made love for the first time on May 25th," she confided, making my cheeks heat in response. Her throaty laugh made me feel a bit less awkward, but I wasn't sure what to say. "We were in Brazil, speaking with a unique young girl there. We'd hoped to convince her to come back to the Institute with us." Her green eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror and I shuffled awkwardly and folded my arms over my chest. "The Professor made arrangements for us to stay in this beautiful room on the top floor of this quiet hotel. There were terraces and magical views."

"I don't need the details, you know."

"It rained so hard that day," she murmured, voice wistful. "We ran up the stairs to our room, laughing. We'd left the terrace doors open, so we rushed across the room to shut them. I thought that it was raining in the room, but it wasn't. He caught me in his arms and – and we listened to the rain and spent the day together."

"And that's one mental image that I could have done without, Jean."

Jean nudged me playfully in the shoulder and clucked her tongue. "I may have been your teacher for a few years, but I'm not _that _much older than you, Danielle. And, as a woman, I can't imagine why you wouldn't feel comfortable enough unless…"

I looked away and pulled my phone out of my pocket in order to see if I had missed any important texts or calls. Unfortunately, I'd missed nothing and had no reason to ignore her any longer. When I looked up, she was facing me with a look of concern on her face.

"It's no big deal," I assured her, shrugging halfheartedly. "Just kind of awkward, is all."

"Danielle, have you ever –" she was cut off when Oliver and the clerk entered the dressing area yet again. The man tittered about how it would be difficult to get the gown in time, but the crafter was willing to expedite the process for an additional fee. "Whatever the cost," Jean agreed, nodding her head. "This is the dress. I can't wait to tell Scott."

She disappeared with the clerk into the small fitting room in order to change back into her regular clothes while I sank back down onto the couch. My mind raced and I shook thoughts away that she had brought to the surface.

I glanced down at my phone and typed out a quick text message to send to Hank. I assured him that Jean and I were fine and would be back at the hotel within the next hour or so. After a second thought, I suggested he nudge Scott to take Jean out to dinner alone; Hank and I could grab some legitimate New York style pizza.

I had a feeling she wanted to tell him the news without a crowd surrounding her.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author's Note:** Some of you were wondering if Creed and Dani liked each other? Well, maybe this will make things a bit clearer.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Thirteen~**_

I pushed off of the floor and executed a flawless aerial back flip as Lori ran under me, giggling excitedly. A smile curled my lips as I pressed my back flat against the ceiling and stared down at her with a goofy expression on my face.

"Aunt Dani's cheatin'! You can't use powers! Mama said so."

"I'm not cheating," I informed her. "Didn't you know that if you laugh too much, you just become lighter than air? It's true, it's true. Come on, keep laughing! You'll float up, too."

The girl seemed doubtful, but giggled anyways and attempted to jump up and reach me several times. "It's not working."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that I had been joking in the first place. Thankfully, I was saved from having to do so when she began to float upwards without any further prompting from me. I swallowed my gasp when a familiar presence brushed against my mind, reassuring me that everything was fine as the young girl rose up towards the ceiling.

A surprised gasp escaped her pink lips as she flailed her arms around wildly. "I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" She paddled her arms through the air like she was swimming and she continued to float around. As a bystander, it almost looked like she was the one in control of the actual flight. "I'm like Aunt Dani!"

Jean stepped into the rec room and I glanced down at her with a grin, causing her to wink in reply. "Oh my." She mock gasped, putting her hand over her mouth for an instant. "Is that Lori flying around, Danielle?"

"Yep, that's her. I don't know how she got up here, but I bet it had something to do with the giggles."

Lori began to spin around in slow somersaults that left the young girl giggling erratically. "Hi Miss Jean. I giggled so much that I got lighter than air."

"Is that so? Well, I wonder if it works for me, too?" Jean giggled a few times and lifted into the air as well. Lori sailed into her arms and I could only watch as they spun in a circle together. There was a look of wonder and sadness in Jean's eyes as they slowly sank back down toward the floor. "It looks like it only lasts a little bit, huh?"

Pouting, Lori nodded her head as her feet landed safely on the floor. "Guess so. That stinks. Aunt Dani's still stuck."

I chuckled and dropped down to the floor, landing lightly in a crouch. Lori instantly released her hold on Jean's hand to run over and throw herself into my arms. I picked her up with ease and waited until she'd circled her arms around my neck before I turned my attention to the smiling Jean Grey.

Since it was the beginning of a school week, the Institute seemed quieter than normal. But, I couldn't complain. We'd gotten back from DC the night before to find that the others had returned from their trip to Florida's Walt Disney World just hours before us. I'd spent an hour or so catching up with Marie before she, John, and Lori had called it a night.

Afterward, I'd wandered into the gym and worked out as much frustration as possible before I'd climbed into a hot shower and then into bed.

It still seemed strange to not actually be employed. I was so used to rolling out of bed before the sun even peaked over the horizon. I was used to a schedule that was unreliable at best, but demanding. Leisure wasn't something I'd had while with SHIELD or while serving on the police force.

Needless to say, I was going stir crazy.

"I'm going to drop Lori off with her mom and then head to Case's."

Jean lifted a dark eyebrow. "Case's? It's not quite three yet."

"Five o'clock somewhere, Jean. I need to get out of here for awhile. I'll have my cell on me!" I promised as I jogged away. She called after me and I spun on my heel sharply, but continued to back up hurriedly. "I'll be fine. Tell Scott not to worry, I'll be back for the meeting."

I was lucky enough to encounter no one else as I slipped through the opulent Institute. And my luck continued when I entered the garage to find that every single one of the Institute's vehicles were available for my use. With a smile upon my face, I grabbed a familiar set of keys off of the hook and hurried toward the sleek black Dodge Charger.

The leather was smooth and supple and the car's interior alone made me sigh wistfully. It was the very same make and model that I'd test driven dozens of times months before when I'd debated on whether or not my meager SHIELD salary could ever handle the monstrous financial burden. The engine turned over gracefully and I ran my fingertips over the steering wheel before I put the car into gear and pulled toward the closed garage doors.

Like every other vehicle within the garage, the Charger was equipped with an electronic sensor that interacted with the garage doors instantly. The heavy garage doors groaned into action and slid upwards at my approach, allowing me to exit the garage smoothly.

A few minutes later, I was on the open road.

I wasn't even sure what it was about Case's that I needed most: a smooth alcoholic beverage or an environment that wasn't filled with children. I pulled into the mostly empty gravel parking lot and slid out of the car with a sigh. After I activated the locks on the car, I pocketed the keys and ducked into the bar.

The atmosphere washed over me like a calming wave of familiarity as I walked across the room. There were a handful of patrons, several of whom watched my progression. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and my eyes swept across the darker corners of the bar out of habit. My lips felt like coarse sandpaper when I licked them, eyes narrowed at the familiar figure seated in a booth in the farthest corner.

I chose to ignore them, at least for the moment and stalked toward the long bar. The bartender was a grizzly of a man with long white hair and a white goatee. He wore a faded gray t-shirt and jeans and looked the part of a biker better than the role of a bartender. Still, he cocked his head to the side and awaited my drink request.

Idly, I pulled a thin feminine wallet out of my pocket and pulled several bills out. _I've spent more on booze and food in the last few days than I've spent on anything besides rent in months_, I realized with a shake of my head.

"I'll take a pitcher. What do you have on tap?"

His bushy white brows furrowed before he jerked his chin towards the obvious selections. "Bud, Miller Light, Guinness, Blue Moon, and Sam Adams. What do you want?"

"Guinness," I replied instantly, half-smiling when he rolled his eyes. Still, he dutifully pulled a fresh pitcher out of the refrigerated section and began to fill it from the tap. He also retrieved a frosted glass and sat it down on the bar in front of me. The pitcher frothed a bit as he slid it toward me and snatched up the bills without comment – it paid for _far more_ than a single pitcher of beer, and he knew it. "Thanks."

I picked up the pitcher and glass and turned my attention to the familiar presence that lurked in the corner. My first instinct was to run as far and as fast as I possibly could. But, the sense of curiosity and a long-held flicker of interest had me crossing the room to stand directly beside the booth.

He was nursing his own beer, it seemed, but his amber eyes still flicked up to meet mine for the briefest of moments. I didn't wait for an invitation before I slid onto the aged seat across from him. I filled my glass and pushed the pitcher of beer across the table toward him and lifted a brow.

Slowly, he lifted the pitcher and refilled his own glass before he sipped at the frothy beer, his eyes never leaving mine. I felt torn between terror and anticipation as I picked up my own glass to sip greedily at its smooth contents.

And then he broke the silence.

"Followin' me?"

"Should I be following you?"

He snorted in response, but his eyes remained on me. "Drinkin' in the middle of the day… Awful unbecomin', ain't it?"

"Could be if I gave a damn." I lifted my glass in a mock toast and downed half of its contents in several gulps. "I needed to get out of there for a little bit. I didn't expect to find anyone, let alone you, here of all places."

"Only bar within thirty miles of the damn place."

Since it was true enough, I simply let my eyes rake down his chest and then back up. I'd noticed the jeans and boots before I'd sat down, but I suddenly wondered why he looked so strange dressed so casually. When I had first met the man, he'd had long tawny hair. Johnny had helped to rid him of that tawny hair, but he looked almost strange to me now. His hair was shaggy and it looked as though he hadn't bothered to shave in a few days.

And it shamed me to realize that I found his gruff appearance almost alluring.

"Why have you stuck around this long?" I asked, even though I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. "You've been alive long enough to know how to disappear if need be. You could have disappeared already, and it would be damn near impossible to find you."

"Things are interesting around here."

His eyes danced over my face and dipped lower. My skin flushed at his intense gaze and I wished, for the first time, that I'd worn something other than the red long sleeved shirt. It had a scoop neck that showed way more skin, and therefore cleavage, than I was comfortable with when sitting across from _him_.

"Frail sure is a blusher," he commented dryly. After a beat, he finished off his drink and poured himself another glass. His amber eyes met mine again and I swallowed thickly at the cruel smile that curled his lips. "Where're the tags?"

"I'm not wearing them."

"Yer lyin'. Not only can I smell the lie on your breath, but I can see the faintest outline." He reached forward and I hissed and jerked back a split second before his fingertips brushed against me. A chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, but he didn't retract his hand. "What? There're my tags."

"You left them," I reminded him, inhaling sharply. Quickly, I reached into the vee between my breasts and withdrew the tags from where they'd been, tucked just inside of my bra. The chain dangled as I held them up for his inspection. "Here, take them."

Creed took the tags without further comment, his eyes raking over them before he focused his attention on me yet again. Without warning, he lifted the metal tags and sniffed them audibly.

"Never thought I'd be wishing I'd been in the same place as a couple pieces of metal." He smirked and my stomach clenched at his words, but I couldn't seem to find my voice in order to respond. "What would y' say if I told you I left them there on purpose?"

I exhaled and shook my head. "You threw them out on purpose. I picked them up because of what I thought they represented." He lifted a brow, but didn't immediately respond. "I wanted a reminder of the person I had morphed into, and you played a part in that equation. I stepped up, really stepped up, for the first time when you attacked us during that survival training. Then everything at Alkali… And I started training with Vivian…"

"You got a few loose screws."

I laughed at that, but it was halfhearted. Something inside of me compelled me to be honest with him, but I wasn't sure what to say. So, I topped off my glass and drank the contents in several gulps. Although the alcohol did not affect me, it added to my sense of courage.

"I picked up those tags because you were one of the few people that looked at me and saw through the layers of confusion and self-loathing. You looked at me and saw that I was capable of anything and you pushed me to that when you – when you nearly killed me." I glanced down at the table and searched for his talons, only to realize that he did not have them bared. "I guess I picked them up because I wasn't ready to see you go. I wanted to keep part of you with me."

"Why?"

I shrugged my shoulders and he growled, his fist closing around the tags in his hand. "I honestly don't know, Creed. They made me feel strong… safe." I slid out of the booth and stood up proudly, still flushed from embarrassment but strong enough to stand my ground. "They're yours and, to be honest, I don't think I need them anymore."

I nodded imperceptibly at the bartender as I stalked across the bar to the door. The late afternoon air assaulted my senses immediately and the relief I expected was not to be found. Instead, I felt a little lost and confused without the familiar weight of the tags upon my chest.

I closed my eyes briefly before pulling the keys out of my pocket and walking toward the black Dodge Charger. The sound of the bar door opening caused me to pause with my hand inches away from the car's door handle. Creed shoved the bar's door open so roughly that it slammed heavily against the outer wall before it creaked shut.

His amber eyes met mine immediately and I froze in place, a look of confusion etched across my features. Then his long legged strides ate up the gravel lot between us quickly, placing him in front of me almost immediately.

"What do you –" I began, only to be cut off when he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me toward him. A squeak exited my lips as he shoved my backside against the car and trapped me there, his fingers latched around my wrist. "Let me go."

Victor Creed, the man known as the deadly Sabretooth, lowered his head and I immediately rose up on my tip toes. My body betrayed me as I reached up toward him, tilting my head slightly as his lips met mine. There was no softness, no delicate brush of his lips over mine.

There was only heat and possession.

I swallowed my own gasp as his tongue slipped between my lips. It felt as though each searing brush of his lips and tongue only further claimed me as his, and I was lost to the current of exquisite feelings that rippled through my body at his touch.

His grasp on my wrist weakened and I tugged my hand free so that I could reach up towards his face. But, the second that my fingertips grazed his neck, the moment was ruined.

I struggled to catch my breath when he pulled back abruptly, his amber eyes melting into a darker color that seemed too primal to be real. Swallowing thickly, I folded my arms over my chest and struggled to compose myself.

"You started something when you decided to wear them tags for five years." He growled and I pressed my back against the car. "And I'm gonna finish it one way or another."

My mind raced with the possible implications of his statement before I spoke, surprising myself with my own words. "It's been six and a half years, you dumb shit."

A long moment passed before a snarl curled his lips, a feral smile that made me shudder in response. "You're feisty." His eyes searched my face again before he abruptly slipped the tags over my neck. The chain wasn't long enough that I could hide the tags; the tags fell between my breasts, which made him smirk again. "Keep 'em."

I didn't know what to say or what to even think when he turned on his heel and stalked back inside of Case's. I could only stare at tags that rested, once again, against my chest. Swallowing thickly, I forced myself to pull open the car door and slide inside.

When I slapped my hands against the steering wheel, it took every ounce of my self control to keep from totaling the car with my superhuman strength. My heart raced as I pulled on the seat belt and stuck the key in the ignition.

But, I didn't know what to do.

I had nowhere else to go but the Institute. My apartment in the city had been leased through a company by SHIELD and I had cleaned out what little I owned before I'd arrived at the Institute with Creed and LeBeau in tow. Grandma Janie had been on the road in an RV for the last year and there was no telling where she was at any given moment.

And other than Marie and a few others, I had no real friends.

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel as I pulled out of the lot and pointed the car toward the Institute. There were more important things to worry about than Victor Creed and the strong and illicit feelings he could produce in me with so little effort.

But, the whole way back to the Institute, his words haunted me.

How was it that he planned on finishing _it_?


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Fourteen~**_

"I don't like it."

"But you look beautiful."

I frowned at my reflection and spun in a short circle before stopping abruptly. "Why do I have to wear this stupid thing anyways, Jean? I look ridiculous in this dress."

She stepped up in order to stand behind me, one hand on my shoulder. Her green eyes were alight with love and laughter as she met my gaze in the mirror, a smile curling her lips. "You're going to be a bridesmaid, Dani. You and Marie and my cousin are all wearing this dress."

The color wasn't the most hideous shade of yellow that I had ever seen, but it was awfully close. Marie looked stunning in her dress, but I felt like an absolute dolt.

"It's too short."

"It hits you mid thigh, just like it is supposed to," the seamstress offered. "I need to let it out just a bit for your chest, but the waist needs to be taken in a few inches. You do look lovely, you know."

I didn't feel lovely, though, so I simply frowned at the woman as she stuck more pins into the dress. "I like Ororo's dress," I pouted, staring at the woman in question. She was across the room admiring her own dress with a thoughtful expression. "How come she gets the elegant blue dress and I get the yellow Mary had a Little Lamb shit?"

"You said you loved this dress when Marie tried it on!" Jean snapped.

"Yeah, but Marie doesn't look like a moron." I sighed and folded my arms over my chest, glaring at the one shoulder dress sadly. "What if I don't want to be a bridesmaid anymore, Jean?"

Her green eyes glassed over with tears, but she didn't shed them. Instead, she stared at me with so much affection that I felt nothing but guilt. "If you don't want to be one of my bridesmaids, I understand. I want you to be part of the most important day of my life. So, if that means that you are only a guest and nothing more, so be it."

I eyed my reflection in the mirror a bit longer before I came to the conclusion that the dress didn't look half bad. "It might look better if I was tanner," I finally admitted, shrugging one shoulder. The seamstress poked me with a pin and I jerked away from her sharply. "Hey! Watch where you're sticking those things!"

"Oh, I apologize." She continued with her work but there was a faint smile upon her lips. "I'm almost done and then you can get out of this beautiful dress."

The next ten minutes passed by in an agonizingly slow way that left me close to tears. Jean was so excited about her upcoming wedding day that she'd wasted no time in contacting the bridal shop where we'd found her dress in order to arrange for a fitting at the Institute. The seamstress she'd met with there had brought Oliver along, and so buckets of champagne and trays of food had been placed in the large room that Jean had called a tea room.

There were just too many women around for my liking.

I began to quickly shrug the dress off of me the moment that the seamstress was finished, not even bothering to duck behind the changing screen. Laughter ensued as I walked across the room in my bra and panties to retrieve my clothes, but I couldn't seem to care too much. I _had_ to get out of the dress as fast as possible.

"Ya thinkin' about runnin'?" Marie's soft voice inquired as I tugged a pair of jeans up over my legs. I didn't respond as I pulled the dark t-shirt over my head and zipped and buttoned the jeans. I slipped on a pair of running shoes and laced them up as quickly as possible. "Why yah gettin' so freaked out, Dani? Are you okay?"

I wasn't okay, I wasn't even close to it and I didn't really understand why. "Not used to female bonding, Marie," I reminded her, hoping it was the reason why I felt so out of sorts. "I gotta talk to you."

Still garbed in her bridesmaid dress, she followed me to the far corner of the room where a portable rack of dresses sat. I pretended to focus on the dresses before I met her eyes warily.

"You know how I told you I went to Case's yesterday and had a couple beers?"

She narrowed her eyes but slowly nodded. "Mm. Why?"

I licked my lips and looked toward the closed door and then over to where Jean and Ororo and Kitty and Jubilee – neither of whom were bridesmaids, but enjoying themselves – were fawning over Ororo's dress. No one seemed to have even noticed we weren't right in the mix, thankfully.

"I ran into someone," I murmured, searching her face for any sign of understanding. "It – it was Creed."

"What do ya mean?" She furrowed her auburn brows and I chewed on my lip as I tried to put the words together in my head. "Is he up to somethin'?"

"I… He – he kissed me," I blurted out, inhaling sharply as her eyes widened dramatically. "Remember that time you asked me about the tags I wore? I lied when I said that they were my dad's, Marie."

"Ah knew they weren't."

Surprised, I blinked a few times and tilted my head. "You knew? How did you know?"

"Yah told me once that yah put all his stuff in a safe deposit box to keep safe after he died. I _do_ pay attention when yah talk, y'know. What I don't know is – wait." She pursed her lips together and shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Don't tell me…"

"They're his," I exhaled, shaking my head. "The day that he and Logan left to look into Logan's past, he threw them out the truck window. I don't know why he did it or why I felt compelled to, but I picked them up. And I kept them. I've worn them practically every day since then."

Her eyes seemed to sear right through me and I found myself speaking without worry about someone overhearing us.

"He saw the tags awhile back. I should have given them back then. I don't know why I didn't, I really don't." I slumped against the wall, practically hiding behind the rack of dresses, and closed my eyes. "He thinks that they mean something to me, that _he_ means something to me. When I tried to give them back yesterday, he said it wasn't finished. And then… he kissed me."

"Kissed yah kind of kissed yah, or up against a wall kinda kissed yah?"

I opened one eye and grimaced at her playful expression. "I was backed up against a car."

"Did yah like it?"

"Maybe."

"Did you want him to do more than kiss yah?"

"Definitely," I blurted out, flushing the moment that the words left my lips. "I don't know why, though. He scares me, but I kind of like that."

Marie chuckled and shook her head. "It's called lust, Dani. Ya ain't gonna get him out of that big ol' head of yours until you get some. That's right: I'm tellin' _you_ to sleep with him. What do ya got to lose?"

"Oh, I don't know… My sanity? My life?" He could kill me, but the thought of slipping into bed with him was so enticing that I had to fight the urge to fan my face. "What happens if –"

"A lot can happen," she interrupted. "Look, all I'm sayin' is that ya ain't gonna get the man out of that head if you just keep hiding from him. Ah danced around Johnny for so long that it was like a damned choreographed act after awhile."

"He's not Johnny."

She nodded in agreement and grabbed me by the wrist to tug me forward. "I'll always half hate the bastard, Ah really will. He was one of the people that put me up on that torch, Dani. But, he's been 'round a lot. He sure ain't a X-Man at heart, but he ain't the monster I thought he was."

"Marie!" Jean called from across the room. "We need to get the measurements for your dress."

Without another word, Marie hurried across the room so that Oliver and the seamstress could mark the adjustments for her bridesmaid dress. I stared at the group for a long moment before I decided that I was probably no longer needed. Jean tentatively brushed against my mind as I slipped out of the room, but she quickly assured me that my absence was fine.

Instead of escaping the Institute, I hurried through the halls and to the hidden access panel that called for the elevator. Once inside, I rode down to the subbasement and exited into the hallway that led to every major X-Men domain.

As I'd anticipated, Logan and Vivian were sparring in the training room when I entered. Neither spared me a glance as I sat down on the mat-covered floor to stretch. I watched the pair swing and kick at one another with almost reckless abandon. Between her superhuman reflexes and expertise, it seemed difficult for the man to even land a punch. But, when he did, it was noticeable.

_At least she heals quickly¸_ I thought to myself as he connected with an uppercut. _And he knows how to draw his hits_.

They continued for a few more minutes before they abruptly stopped and grinned at one another. I half-expected them to start tearing the clothes off of each other in front of me. The tension in the air was palpable and made me feel rather uncomfortable.

"I hope you still have some energy left, Logan," I taunted as I pushed myself to my feet. The jeans weren't ideal for sparring, but I didn't have the forethought to change on my way downstairs. "I need to work off a little steam and nobody can take a hit like you can."

The man smirked as Vivian crossed the room to pick up a dry towel. She dabbed at the sweat on her brow and face and motioned for me to take her place on the mats. Without any hesitation, I stepped up to Logan and offered him a polite bow.

"I never got to practice like this with SHIELD," I admitted as I blocked his attack. His entire skeleton was covered in adamantium, the strongest and most durable stuff in the entire world. So yeah, it hurt a little. "You don't mind, do you?"

His response was a kick to my solar plexus that sent me sailing through the air. I landed on the mats roughly, but fought through the pain and jumped to my feet. He ducked a backhand, but I swiftly followed it up with a roundhouse that caught him in his jaw. I followed it up with a shot to his gut before I stomped his in-step, causing his left knee to give. The moment he dropped to one knee, I brought both of my fists down at the same time that I lifted my knee. My knee caught him under the chin at the same time that both fists hit his shoulder blades.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he fell to the mats face down. He breathed heavily for a few moments before he pushed himself back to his feet and cracked his neck.

"You didn't pull back much there, kid," he grunted as I danced out of the way of a jab. "You know the rules."

I flipped backwards gracefully when he ran at me in standard Wolverine fashion. If he'd had brandished his claws, it would have been a trademark move. Since he didn't have his claws out, I was just out of his reach. The moment I landed, he grabbed me by my shirt and jerked backwards, sending me sailing over his head.

I used my own momentum and curled into a ball as I hit the mats, somersaulting before I jumped back up to my feet. A howl of pain escaped my lips when his fist connected with my chin, causing my head to snap back sharply. I caught his fist when he attempted to follow up with another punch, squeezing it tightly until he used his other hand to punch me in the kidneys.

A gasp escaped my lips as I brought my knee up and caught him in the gut. He deflected a right jab but I managed to punch him in the throat with my left hand. His claws came out with a _snikt_ that made my pulse jump in response. Even though I knew it was out of reflex and animal instinct, I still panicked a little when he swung those impressive adamantium claws in my direction.

They grazed my side. When he swung at my throat, I kicked him in the chest with more force than necessary. This time it was Logan that sailed across the room to land in a heap upon the floor. My breaths were ragged as I lifted a hand and pressed it against my side. Even though the wound wasn't mortally deep, it hurt like hell.

"I think that's probably enough for now," Vivian decided as she helped Logan to his feet. Had nearly any other person tried to help him while he had his claws out and blood in his eye, they probably would have been gutted on the spot. Logan obviously had a soft spot for the woman he'd been with for over five years. "You need to be more careful, baby. You could have really hurt her."

"She's got a healin' factor. She's fine." The claws were gone again and the faint bruise I'd left on his neck had already healed. And the smile that curled his lips was pure Logan. A single glance from Vivian made him release an exasperated sigh. "Sorry for knickin' you, kid. Got a little carried away."

I winced as I ran my fingers over the three grazes on my side even though I knew that they wouldn't take long to heal. Though I wasn't invulnerable by any means, it took a lot to inflict any real damage to my person. Most people would probably struggle to bloody my nose; Logan's claws and brutal attacks could easily break past any minor invulnerability my mutation allowed.

"Good news is that I'll live," I commented dryly. "Bad news is that this shirt is ruined. Damn, I needed that." The rush of endorphins was welcome and made me breathe a bit easier. I still wasn't sure what to do about (or with) Creed, but I didn't feel as worried about the situation as I had before. When I realized that the two of them were lost in each others eyes, I could only sigh. "I guess I'll get going. You two seem… Yeah. Thanks, Logan."

I hurried out of the room with as much dignity as I could muster given the circumstance. Vivian released a muffled giggle and I almost cringed as I slammed the door shut behind me. Even though we were all adults, there were some things about their personal lives that I never wanted to see.

And judging by the sounds coming through the door, I'd almost witnessed the most traumatizing of all.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Fifteen~**_

"I wanted to speak with you before I called in the others, Danielle."

I squirmed a bit on the exquisitely crafted antique armchair before I managed to nod my head. Dark hair cascaded around my face and over my shoulders and the entire ordeal made me feel itchy and awkward. I'd dressed for a night out on the town with Jubilee and had been halfway to the garage when the Professor had sent his mental summoning in my general direction.

Needless to say, sitting in the Professor's study made me feel like a student again rather than a fully grown and fully capable adult.

"I have met with Henry and Ms. Howell several times in the past few days. I must admit that I am curious to learn as to whether or not you have any enlightening information about the current situation. Given your –"

"I don't know anything more than you do," I interrupted, sighing. "I don't have any reliable sources within SHIELD that I can tap, not anymore. I've also come to realize that they used me as much, if not more, than I used them."

His eyes searched my face imploringly for several long beats before he released a heavy sigh. "I _am_ sorry that the entire experience has sullied your former regard for the organization, Danielle. When Henry and I first discussed the possibility of seeking your help, I was leery. I knew what being caught would mean for you and your potential career as an agent. Still, we forged ahead because having you on the inside was very beneficial to all parties involved."

"I know. And I could have said no." At least, I liked to tell myself that it would have been possible for me to turn them down. Sometimes I wondered if fate had played a part in my adulthood, because sometimes it didn't feel as though I'd had a choice in anything since I'd left the Institute after graduation. "I'm sorry I don't know anything more, Charles." And _boy_, did it feel weird to call him by his first name. "I hadn't had a chance to do any digging on Essex after Creed and LeBeau were discovered – I was promptly canned."

"Yes, of course. I do understand." He nodded his head as I pushed myself to my feet, arms folded over my chest. "I do believe you had plans this evening with Jubilee, and I do not wish to keep you from enjoying yourself. I plan to meet with the senior-most members of the X-Men this evening."

I said a polite goodbye and exited his study as calmly as I could manage given the circumstance. Scott passed me in the hallway gave me a strange look as I hurried past him. When I slipped into the garage, Jubilee was already waiting on me.

"There you are, _chica_! I thought maybe you decided to back out on me." Her bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she ducked into a bright red Jeep that she'd claimed as her own several years ago. When she honked the horn, I dutifully climbed into the Jeep alongside her. "Let's go!"

There was no need to talk to Jubilee about the conversation that I'd had with Xavier. Even though she had a serious side when necessary, she wasn't known for taking things seriously on a day to day basis. I suspected that she would have been bored by the topic of conversation, anyways.

"I don't want to listen to this play list again, Jubes." An hour into our ninety-five minute trip and I already wanted to murder her. "There aren't any lyrics! Just bass and _thump-thumping_. We're going to a club where we're going to have to put up with this all night."

Jubilee mumbled under her breath but she dutifully turned the music off. But, the quiet was worse. Jubilee being Jubilee, she quickly launched into the tale about her breakup over the weekend.

"Like, I don't know why we got back together in the first place, Dani. I missed him and stuff, we missed _each other_. But it never works out."

"Sorry."

"I mean, I love him. I think part of me will always love him. But we don't mesh together perfectly."

"It doesn't have to be perfect."

She sighed heavily as she exited the freeway. "He's always so shy when we're around other people, and he hates going to clubs with me. Pete thinks I'm wild but says that he likes my spirit, loves everything about me."

Knowing better than to truly argue with anything she said, I shook my head. "Then I don't see a problem."

"We're too different, I guess."

"Opposites attract."

"You think I haven't thought of that?" Jubilee glanced sideways at me as we rolled to a stop at a red light. "I want to be an X-Man, to help people and protect mutants like us. Pete does too, kind of. But, he's content with just that. He wants to be able to dabble in his art – which, by the fucking way, he's fucking amazing. You look at the man and you think 'Holy fuck, this guy looks like a big lug, an idiot.' You sure as hell don't think he's capable of creating some of the most beautiful shit I've ever seen."

She inhaled sharply and I grimaced when she hit the accelerator too hard and we lurched forward jerkily.

"I'm wild and crazy and he's quiet and down to earth. We're like water and oil, Dani."

My stomach clenched when she sniffed. I quickly came to the realization that the primary reason Jubilee had begged me to go out with her wasn't because she needed a friend or wanted to spend time with me. She needed to escape her own fears and worries about her breakup with Pete. She had doubts and she wanted me to reassure her, but I didn't know how.

"You love him, Jubes. I know you do."

She said nothing as we pulled into an underground parking garage at least five blocks from the club itself. After parking, she turned the Jeep off and turned slightly in her seat to stare at me.

"I'm still young, you know. When we first got together, he was content with just mind blowing sex. Really amazing sex." Her blue eyes glittered with mirth and I managed a half-smile. "Next thing I knew, we were spending practically all of our time together. Not just as X-Men, but as a couple. We were eating every meal together, planning our days around each other, protecting one another viciously in the Danger Room."

"You act like that's a problem, Jubilee." Gently, I rested a hand on her forearm and squeezed. "As far as I've ever been able to tell, that's kind of what couples do. You've seen Scott and Jean together forever; you've seen Logan and Viv in more recent years. Isn't that how they are?"

"I don't know!" she blurted out. "They seem happy and everything together. They always have. But, they can make it work."

"Grandma Janie always said that there wasn't nothing in life worth having that didn't take a little effort." And since I knew that Jubilee loved and respected Grandma Janie, I figured she'd listen. "You can't just expect that a relationship with Pete is going to be all fun and games. Relationships take work, just like friendships."

"I don't work at, like, being friends with people!"

"You call your friends, you text them and you talk to them. Sometimes you go get a manicure together, eat lunch, laugh and cry. You don't call that work, but that's work." I nodded my head at my own words and squeezed her arm gently once again. "But, if you love Pete, it's worth working at. You just need to locate the source of the problem, Jubes."

Her lips trembled a bit, but she slowly exhaled. "I don't know if he'll forgive me again, Dani. I was really mean. I mean, like, really fucking mean. I yelled and screamed just to try to get him to react but all he did was stand there when I threw stuff at him. What if he doesn't want to talk to me ever again?"

I didn't know Piotr Rasputin as well as Jubilee, but I knew him well enough to manage a real, though weak, smile. "If you really think that he's not going to give you a chance to talk to him, you're dumber than you look. Do you want to look back on your time with Pete a few years down the road and wonder if you made the biggest mistake of your life? Do you?"

A determined expression sculpted her features immediately. Jubilee wiped at her eyes, though no tears had actually fallen. When her blue orbs met mine yet again, I knew that our planned night out had just been canceled.

"Would you mind if we…"

"Of course not," I reassured her. I nudged her in the ribs playfully with my elbow as she dug through her gargantuan purse, no doubt looking for her phone. "But if you're going to be texting or calling Pete, I'm driving, sister."

Jubilee didn't mutter a single word of argument as I slid out of the Jeep and walked around to the driver's side. In fact, she merely hopped over the center console and settled into the passenger seat with her purse in her lap and her phone in her hands. I shoved the driver's seat back a couple of inches before I climbed inside and buckled up before I began to adjust the mirrors.

Although I had been looking forward to a night out, I was happy for my friend. And I was also relieved that I wouldn't have to worry about strangers grinding up against my ass (and other parts of me) in a too-crowded nightclub.

"He said he misses me, too," Jubilee announced giddily as I pulled out of the parking garage. She literally bounced in her seat a few times as I turned at yellow light. "I know it's going to be pretty late by the time we get back to the School, but he wants to go out. He wants to go out and talk and spend time with me!"

Since I assumed that's what most normal couples did, I shrugged. But, when Jubilee released a huff of air, I realized that it wasn't as common with the pair of them as I would have originally suspected.

"That's good then, right? Going out to talk and spend time together."

"It's amazing is what it is, Dani. I'm the busybody, you know. Pete is more down to Earth, so we've never gone out a _lot_. Dinner here, a movie there – we went to a couple art museums and a monster truck rally once." I blinked as I switched lanes to maneuver onto the entrance ramp of the freeway. "He sounds sincere. Oh my God, he's calling."

I glanced over at Jubilee and couldn't help but smile at the anxious look in her eyes. She waited for the phone to ring four times before she answered it with a controlled _hello_ that quickly erupted into gushing wails that combined sobbing and giddy laughter in a very disturbing manner.

I did my best to tune out Jubilee's end of the conversation as I eased the Jeep onto the freeway. It would be twenty minutes before we exited the freeway to get on the highway that would lead us to the Institute, but that was only because of the traffic.

A few spatters of liquid hit the windshield unexpectedly and I sighed. "Great. Now it's raining." If we had gone onto the nightclub, we would have been caught in the rain while waiting in line. In fact, we likely would have stood in the rain for several hours if we hadn't given up and raced back to the Jeep. "People don't know how to fucking drive in the rain!"

To her credit, Jubilee nodded in agreement but was too caught up chatting with her probably-again-boyfriend to really pay me much attention. I focused on the road and the other drivers and cursed their existence under my breath repeatedly.

I had never been able to determine what it was about foul weather that turned most drivers into incompetent idiots and the rest into intrepid children.

My cell phone started to vibrate as I switched lanes. With a curse, I reached into my pocket and yanked the slim object out. I glanced at the display briefly, a frown on my face, before I slid my thumb across the screen to answer the phone.

"Yeah?" I asked, left hand on the wheel. There was no immediate reply, so I sighed in frustration. "Anyone there?"

"You're a very difficult woman to reach, Evans."

A sense of dread and frustration rolled into a ball of surprise coiled in my gut at the familiar voice. Jubilee, still occupied with her engaging chat with Piotr, didn't notice my frustration. "I didn't realize this was a listed number."

"It's not. There's a situation. You're in the area."

"I don't know what area you –" I cut off sharply when he recited my exact coordinates to me. I glanced over at Jubilee and shook my head, but she didn't even notice the tense atmosphere that had curtained the vehicle. "I'm not one of your agents anymore, Fury. I'm a free agent now, and that means –"

"This is a request, Evans, not an order." He grew quiet for a moment before he exhaled heavily. "Someone or something injected Banner. Thor is inbound."

I shivered at the mere thought and wondered if that meant that the man had morphed into the Hulk, but couldn't find the willpower to voice the question. "Where?"

"Stay on the freeway," he ordered gruffly as he gave me an exit number. "He's in one of our safe houses for the moment, but I need someone that is capable – that I can trust – to keep him in line."

"I've got –"

"Jubilation Lee in the car with you, I know. Keep her out of harm's way, but do this for me, Danielle."

The man had uttered my given name so few times that I wasn't even sure how to reply. After a beat, I switched lanes and put more pressure on the accelerator. The windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the torrential downpour, but I switched lanes over and over again as I squeezed my way through traffic at a dangerous speed.

"Give me the address and send backup asap, Fury. I don't have the time nor the patience for this bullshit." I hit the _end call_ button and tossed the phone onto the dash. Several vivid curses rolled off of my tongue as I cut through the thick traffic deftly. "Jubes? Jubes!"

She placed her palm over her phone and held it away from her ear a few inches. "_Chica_, I'm on the phone!"

"Fury called me," I explained, glancing over at her as her cheeks paled. "He needs a favor. I can go solo."

She swallowed audibly and exhaled before righting her phone. "Pete? Yeah, I'm sorry, baby. Dani and I need to pull off, I don't know, somewhere soon so that we can get some gas and some food in her. No, no. Of course I'm fine." Her blue eyes met mine briefly before she turned her head to stare out her window. "I'm good. And I promise we'll be back soon. Love you, too."

"You just lied out your ass to your boyfriend, assuming you're back together now," I remarked dryly as she tucked her phone back into her purse. "Once we're off the freeway, I'll give you the wheel. I can fly in to where I need to go."

She snorted in reply as she dug through her large purse. I glanced over again and rolled my eyes at the sight of the fingerless gloves she tugged onto her hands and the dark sunglasses she pulled on. "I need to burn off some energy anyway."

I debated on the best way to tell her that it wasn't a good idea, but secretly wanted her company. Fury wouldn't have called me if it wasn't something that he and his agents wouldn't be handling in a very quick manner. He didn't trust me and would have only called me for something minor.

He wanted me to babysit until his men arrived.

"We've circled this block three times."

I nodded as I peered through the rain-spotted windshield. "Protocol." I eased the Jeep toward the curb and parked three houses down from the dimly-lit safe house. The vehicle was still running when I turned my full attention to Jubilee, who seemed anxious to get moving. "You need to stay out here."

"Fuck no!"

"Jubes, this is serious. It could be dangerous and –"

"Oh, fuck you, Dani." She yanked the keys out of the ignition and pocketed them before I could even manage a reply. "I know how to handle myself, Logan's made sure of that. Besides, might as well help while we're here. Might need me."

There wasn't really any time to argue, so I pushed out of the Jeep and landed on the sidewalk quickly. I heard Jubilee behind me as I moved toward the house in question, constantly scanning the vicinity for any unknowns. The neighborhood itself seemed like the standard lower-middle class suburb – the curtains were drawn in all of the houses and only a couple had lights on inside.

"Stay close," I warned her as we approached the house at a quick pace. There were no lights on inside, at least not any that could be seen from outside. I considered knocking on the door before I quickly dismissed the idea and twisted the doorknob in my hand. "Be quiet," I warned her, hissing as she popped her gum loudly.

The door handle snapped, the lock breaking, and I pushed open the door itself. I stepped into the foyer and blinked a few times in an attempt to see in the dim light. Jubilee stepped in behind me and shut the door, using the chain and a side bolt to better secure it.

A noise echoed through the house and I stiffened in response as I carefully made my way to the rear of the house. Jubilee stayed right behind me as I eased through a formal living room, through the formal dining room, and paused in the entryway of the kitchen.

I had met Dr. Bruce Banner on several occasions. The first time I had met him, he had been walking out of a meeting with several other members of the Avengers. Though I knew all of them by name, I'd only ever worked with Black Widow and Captain America. Bruce Banner had seemed like the odd man out and he'd offered me a big smile and a huge thanks when I'd handed over a take-out cup of coffee I'd just gotten for myself.

Just because he'd looked like he could use it.

The second time I'd met Dr. Banner, he wasn't quite himself. Something had set him off, some weird sort of contraption, and he'd turned into the Hulk aboard the Helicarrier. Of course, I was later told that it was the second time that he'd done as much. I'd been sent to deal with him and had lost, terribly, but had learned a number of interesting facts about the Hulk.

"Bruce?" I called out gently, flapping a hand at Jubilee when she mimicked me in order to call out his name as well. "Shut up, Jubes. Be quiet!"

The sound of shuffling feet caused me to pause as a figure entered the kitchen from the opposite side of the room. He looked disheveled in dark jeans and a green button down shirt, his hair wild and his green eyes dark behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

A look of confusion marred his features as he took another step forward, obviously torn between the usual fight or flight. "Agent Evans? Is that – is that you?"

"Hey, Bruce." I managed a half-smile and walked further into the room calmly. "Yeah, it's me. How's it going?" I asked as I surveyed the room quickly. There was a laptop and several boxes of files on the kitchen table, but the room looked otherwise untouched. "Heard you had a rough night."

"Rough night doesn't even begin to do it justice." He ran his hands through his hair, causing it to look even more wild than it had before. "I was having dinner with a colleague, an old friend of mine, when our waitress bumped into me. I felt the prick of something sharp, but didn't give it any thought until… I nearly lost control." His green eyes narrowed as he met my brown orbs darkly. "I do _not_ lose control."

"The waitress pricked you with something," I repeated, taking another step forward. "And you're having a hard time keeping yourself under control. Are there any other symptoms?"

Slowly, he sank down onto one of the chairs that surrounded the kitchen table. He held his face in the palms of his hands and sighed heavily and shook his head. "I don't know… Confusion? I think there may be some short term memory loss, or I blacked out for a bit. I'm not sure. One minute I was running to the bathroom to get a hold of myself and the next I was a block away from here."

"Sounds like you went on one helluva bender, bro," Jubilee offered. The man lifted his and glanced at her before his gaze met mine again. "What do you need me to do, Dani?"

"Do a quick search of the place and make sure there aren't any hidden electronics or monsters in the closet." She lifted a dark brow but shrugged and moved out of the kitchen without further comment. "She's a friend of mine, a good friend of mine. If she starts to irritate you then –"

"You'll be the first to know," he assured me. "I don't want to hurt anyone, especially not some kid. I didn't know what to do, so I called in." He pulled a laptop toward him and tapped several keys, leaving me to wonder if he had chosen to ignore me or if he sought to only distract himself from the current situation. "I took a picture of the scratch on my shoulder when I got here and sent it in. I took another photo twenty minutes ago and it looks weird."

Hesitantly, I walked toward him and motioned for him to lift the sleeve of his shirt. He didn't need to lift his sleeve, I quickly learned, as he'd nearly ripped the sleeve off beforehand. I winced at the purple knot that had formed on his shoulder.

"What about an allergic reaction?"

He sat up a bit straighter and stared up at me in surprise. "I didn't think of that. I'm not allergic to anything and – as far as I know – neither is the Hulk. I'll have to run some tests once I'm out of here. When is that going to be, anyway?"

There was a sound from the front of the house that sounded like a door opening. I lifted my hand and shook my head when Bruce moved to rise from his seat. I motioned for him to remain where he was as I lifted off of the floor a few inches, saving myself from having to worry about making any sounds with my booted feet.

A dark figure slipped through the foyer and formal living room to pause in the formal dining room. He lifted a bushy brow and sniffed audibly. "I figured you'd get yourself into trouble, kid. Where's your other half?"

"Logan?" I shook my head and lowered myself to the floor and glanced over his shoulder. He had shut the front door back behind him – and I wasn't surprised by the fact that he'd gotten through the chain and side bolt with ease - but there was still something slightly off about him. "What are you doing here?"

He stalked towards me with the familiar gait and swagger of Wolverine and Wolverine alone. "Heard you were headin' into the city. Was out and about and thought I'd check on ya. Tracked you here."

Prickles of doubt caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, but I managed a half-smile as I motioned toward the kitchen. "You know me, always causing trouble. Ran into an old friend of sorts and thought I'd give him a hand. Say, where's Viv tonight?"

"Left her at the bar."

Jubilee swept into the room from the opposite direction and smiled broadly. "Hey Wolvie! Wasn't expecting you."

"Hey Half Pint. How's it –" his voice was cut off when I reached forward and clamped my hand around his throat.

He struggled and thrashed and those famous blades crept out from between his knuckles, but he did not use them. Jubilee gasped and ran toward me, but I shoved her back roughly with my free hand.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I know you're not Logan!" I shouted as I shook him roughly. Though I didn't bother to mention it, the only person that Logan called Half Pint was Kitty. "Show your true face, you dumb bitch!"

His hazel eyes shifted into an eerie yellow that looked better suited for a wild animal than any kind of person. He jutted his legs out and kicked at my chest, but the pain was minimal, not even winding me. In a shimmer of motion, his features changed so that blue scales covered him and he no longer resembled the formidable Wolverine but the slithery and agile Mystique.

"Oh shit. Mystique!"

I wanted to compliment Jubilee on her powers of observation, but instead glared at the woman known as Mystique as I continued to choke the life out of her. Even though I had the strength to do so, I wasn't so sure that I was prepared to break her neck for the sake of Fury's mission.

The woman placed a blue hand on my forearm and I abruptly released my hold on her, dropping her to the floor. I knew she was a formidable opponent, but I had enough training and super strength on my side that I did not feel too threatened.

"Were you behind this?"

"Of course not, you idiot," she hissed, short of breath as she rose to her feet. "I've been trying to track down the man responsible for the testing, the deaths. Since Stryker's gone, we've been grasping at straws."

"And you thought strolling through the door as Wolverine was a good idea? You're the freaking idiot."

I held up a hand to silence Jubilee as I eyed the blue-skinned woman warily. There was definitely something that she withheld, some piece of information that would no doubt solve a lot of mysteries. But, I didn't have time to wring it out of her.

"Did you track us?"

"Who is here with you?" She asked, peering over my shoulder. "I think I recognize him."

"I don't give a shit if he's your long lost cousin. Back up." I shoved her back and she slammed into the wall some ten feet behind her. "Though I don't usually go out of my way to save the skin of _anyone_ in the Brotherhood, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you don't want to end up in SHIELD-sponsored cell tonight, right? That's what I thought. Backup will be here anytime, sweet cheeks. So I suggest you get out of here."

She righted herself and her eerie appearance shifted into the figure of the man still seated at the kitchen table many feet behind me. "It took me a moment to recognize him, but I'm certainly familiar with the monster that he becomes." The appearance of Bruce Banner started to turn green, so I stalked forward and punched my fist into the wall beside her head. "Why are you here, X-Men?"

"I think the better question is why do you think it's wise to push me, Mystique? And I sure as hell don't see the point in you morphing into someone or something other than yourself." The green skin faded back into Bruce Banner's normal fair complexion, but she did not shift into her own skin. "You don't get their powers, their strengths. Stupid to try to show off."

She smiled then, a slithery serpentine smile that was accompanied by her morphing back into her blue-skinned self. "It's good for distraction."

On cue, a blur of motion and wind raced past me and I heard Jubilee grunt in response. I looked over my shoulder, but was surprised to find her falling toward the ground in a boneless fashion. A hiss escaped my lips as Mystique used the distraction to her advantage, backhanding me and nearly snapping my neck.

I kicked off, using her chest for momentum, and crashed onto the dining room table noisily. The solid wood gave under my weight, causing me to crash to the floor in a pile of splinters and wood bits.

The blur of motion ran into my line of sight and stopped, revealing a woman of darker skin with a tattoo covering most of her face. She smirked at me before she ran past me, yet again a blur. There was a crash and another grunt of pain, but not from Jubilee.

And then an inhuman roar shook the entire house.

Knowingly or not, the speedster had just invited the Hulk to the house party.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author's Note****:** I decided to look ahead to refresh my memory, and there are only three or four chapters left before we reach the moment we've all been waiting for. Thanks to the reviewers and readers that have sent me PMs regarding the story itself. I appreciate your feedback and it's a honor to present you with the next chapter of Truth is Overrated, wherein Dani and Jubes have to wrangle with the Hulk.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Sixteen~**_

I had learned numerous fighting techniques from Vivian my senior year at the Institute. I was no master of the arts, but I'd continued the practice in the Police Academy, on my own time, and then, later, with prominent members of SHIELD. I was proficient with all modern weapons and nearly any kind of blade. But, because of my unique ability, I'd only used anything other than my fists a handful of times throughout my career.

The woman known as Callisto, however, made me wish that I had at least something nearby that was nimble and sharp so that I could take her annoying head off.

She ran around me at impossible speeds and created a vortex not unlike a tornado. It sucked the oxygen away from me and I winced as I struggled to breathe. My number one priority had to be containing the Hulk, but the woman seemed determined to stop me at every given opportunity.

I collapsed to my knees, lightheaded, and wondered what would happen if I passed out. I wasn't sure if Jubilee was still unconscious, and I had no idea how far away the Hulk was. Angrily, I lifted both of my hands and smashed them down. Callisto was lifted up off of her feet and she went sailing as my hands punched through hardwood onto the concrete slab beneath. The vortex seemed to evaporate into thin air and I was able to suck in greedy gasps of air as my eyes searched the destroyed remains of the dining room and living room.

The kitchen itself looked to be completely destroyed. The cabinet doors were ripped from their hinges and the refrigerator laid on the floor on its side. The small kitchen table was in splinters and the wall near the table and every window in the room was smashed to bits.

And there was a Hulk-sized hole in the wall that led outside.

Hissing, I pushed myself to my feet and ignored the wave of vertigo as I searched for Jubilee. There was a dust-covered figure in the farthest corner of the kitchen that made my chest clench, but I pushed off of the floor and rocketed to her side quickly. Her face and bare arms were covered in scratches, but nothing looked to be too deep. Her blue eyes fluttered open when I gingerly lifted her head and searched her face for any sign of permanent or severe damage.

"_Chica_, you always manage to get me into trouble." She groaned as she sat up shakily, exhaling sharply even though I braced her weight as well as I could. "Blurry lady ran in, I saw Myst slip out, and Hulk – well, he _Hulked_ out."

I glanced across the room and glared at Callisto's unmoving form in the dining room. There was no guarantee that she was out for the count, and I didn't have the time to screw with her. I reached into my pocket and cursed at the realization that I'd left my phone on the dash of the Jeep and had no way of contacting Fury, even though he'd claimed that backup was on its way.

"Stay here a sec, Jubes." She protested, but allowed me to prop her back against the wall as I pushed off the floor and rocketed through the air to land practically on top of Callisto.

Either the hardwood floor or a large chunk of concrete had struck the woman in the face, if the gash on the side of her face was any indication. There were several bruises already forming on her throat, but she had a steady pulse.

"A speedster," I mumbled to myself as I shook my head. She needed to be contained so that I could focus properly on the task at hand, but I wasn't entirely certain how to go about containing her. She could use friction to wear down any bonds, so I finally just cracked her head against the hardwood floor one solid time. "Still alive," I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no blood and her pulse was still steady, so hopefully she'd stay out for awhile.

I hurried back to Jubilee and lifted her up with one arm, eyes searching for any lingering sign of Mystique. Though I wasn't surprised that she'd fled the scene as soon as it had gotten out of control, I doubted that she'd ventured too far away.

"Have your phone on you?"

"Think so." Jubilee reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, smiling triumphantly. "Calling in the National Guard?"

I chewed on my lip and considered calling in a favor to Xavier. But, it wasn't his place. The X-Men did not venture into situations that did not involve mutants or the protection of mutants. Hauling in the Hulk wasn't exactly in their jurisdiction.

Snatching the phone out of her hand, I dialed a memorized number and grimaced when a familiar masculine voice came onto the line. "I see you haven't changed your cell number."

"Evans?" He sounded surprised, but the commotion in the background quieted instantly. "The SRU is inbound to your location."

"Well, I'd strongly suggest that they picked up their pace. Hulk's out of bounds. There was a complication." I grimaced at the curses that flew from his lips heatedly. "I'm going to try to find him and contain him, but you know how fucking impossible that task is going to be. So get your asses here. Now."

I tossed the phone back to Jubilee and shook my head as she tried to stand on her own two feet. Being Jubilee, she of course ignored my protests and rose to her feet shakily. I saw no injuries other than a few scratches and scrapes, but figured that the knock on the head had probably rattled her brains a little.

"Let's go, Dani."

"You're not going anywhere, Jubes. I don't have time to argue."

"So strap me on your back and let's get the fuck out of here, _chica_." She shoved the phone into her pocket and winced as she ran her fingers through her tangled and dampened hair. She abruptly looked down at her hand and cursed at the sight of blood on her palm. "At least I didn't crack my skull open. Come on."

Even though it was against my better judgment, I decided that I didn't want Jubilee to stay in the house. With a sigh, I let her climb onto my back like a child would and grimaced at the way that she clutched at my shoulders.

"You don't have your goggles this time around, Jubes, so keep your eyes closed tight." I didn't have to warn her that it would probably be a little hard for her to breathe, because anyone that had hitched a ride with me at full speed knew that. "Let's go."

The floor under me gave as I kicked off sharply, rocketing toward the hole in the kitchen wall at a speed so great that a sonic boom echoed in my wake. I sailed over the houses in the neighborhood instantly and focused on the trail of destruction below.

The suburban neighborhood looked as though a tornado had torn through its innards. Trees lay on their sides, bikes lay scattered in backyards, an above ground pool leaked its contents everywhere, and swing sets lay broken in tangles of metal and wood and plastic.

The sight was almost haunting.

To my surprise, the Hulk had not gotten as far as I'd feared. Either he hadn't run into any angering obstacles, or else he was simply a little confused. I furrowed my brow as I slowed my speed and looped down toward the ground, careful to maintain a safe distance so he wouldn't be alarmed.

"He's huge," Jubilee muttered in my ear. I felt her shift on my back so that she could look over my shoulder. "I'd also like to point out that your hair freakin' hurts when it's whipping me in the face."

I managed a half-smile as I surveyed the damage wrought by the Hulk in what appeared to be a small neighborhood park. The area was surrounded by trees and greenery, and some of the trees were very old and therefore very tall. Still, it would have been impossible to not spy the large green behemoth sitting on the far side of the large park in what appeared to be an over sized sandbox.

Not sure how to handle the situation, I pulled back a few more yards and did my best to keep to the shadows as I lowered myself closer to the ground. My feet touched the damp grass and I realized that the rainy night had cleared away to a quiet and slightly chilled evening.

Jubilee slid off of my back and landed on the ground lightly, saying nothing as I pointed toward the Hulk. Using a mixture of hand signals that had been taught to us by Cyclops as well as a few that us younger X-Men had created, I motioned for her to remain quiet and out of sight while I crept closer. The moon and a few blinking lamps around the park illuminated her face enough for me to see that she wasn't pleased, but she didn't argue.

I knew that he would sense me if I trekked forward on foot, so I took to the sky. Hovering several feet off of the ground, I approached him in a long and drawn out manner, careful to approach him from his side rather than from his back.

"Fancy seeing you here," I offered lightly, careful to keep my tone as friendly as possible. As expected, the Hulk glanced over angrily and bared his teeth. "I don't know if you remember me or not, but we met before. I'm Dani."

"Dumb girl," he grunted and turned his attention back to staring at the night sky. "Go away, dumb girl."

I'd always wondered why none of Banner's super intelligence transferred to the Hulk. The thing was like a primal being that relied entirely on its instincts and was filled with rage and very little else. I'd been told that he regained some of Banner's actual mental awareness, but it wasn't all that evident. My previous encounters with the Hulk left me doubtful as to whether or not I'd be able to reach the man inside of the scary monster before he tried to kill me.

"I'm not here to try to hurt you."

"Can't hurt Hulk."

He sounded so sure of himself, and I didn't want to argue. I'd landed a couple of punches before, but they hadn't done anything more than daze him for a moment or two – probably purely out of surprise.

"I'm friends with Bruce," I explained, hiding a grimace when he glared over his shoulder yet again. "He wouldn't want you to hurt me, now would he?"

"Dumb girl."

I certainly felt dumb for trying to reach the dangerous Hulk, but I couldn't very well just fly away and leave him to do his bidding. There were too many innocent people in the surrounding area homes. Remembering that, I heard sirens in the distance and cursed under my breath. Hulk would flip out if the cops surrounded him.

A blur of light raced past me and I hissed in frustration as Callisto ran in a blindingly quick circle around Hulk before she halted just in front of him. "Hey there. Got a friend that would like to meet you. Come catch me!"

Hulk roared angrily and swatted at the woman, but she was too fast. I hissed in frustration and tried to guess her tactics when she got a little too close to him and he nearly clipped her with a huge green fist.

"Hulk smash!" The roar he released made me nearly vibrate as he slammed one fist down on the ground. I'd used the move earlier in the house to stop Callisto, so she'd expected it. She switched directions instantaneously and was able to avoid being tripped up. "Smash!" he shouted again.

"Shit."

When he couldn't hit the woman, Hulk decided to throw something at her. But, unlike a normal person, he didn't pick up a rock. No, the Hulk picked up a decorative boulder – the boulder looked as though the neighborhood children had recently drawn on it with chalk – that had probably been pushed into place with heavy machinery and threw it at the woman like a pitcher trying to strike out the next hitter.

She barely avoided being smeared into the ground as she swept back around and ran in several quick circles around the green creature. As soon as he roared, she raced away and out of sight.

"Double shit."

Rather than running after her like a normal man would, Hulk pushed off of the ground and flew through the air several hundred feet to land in the distance briefly. He hit the ground with such force that the alarms from cars parked on the street began to blare. An instant later, he jumped again.

Since I couldn't very well let Callisto lead him wherever she wanted him to go, I soared through the air. Gritting my teeth, I slammed into the Hulk from the side. He hit the ground heavily, sinking several feet in as he skidded through gravel and grass. I grunted as I flew towards him and used my super sonic flight to dive bomb him, punching him deeper into the ground.

"Dumb girl!" He roared and leaped out of the hole I'd helped him dig and bared his teeth at me. I grimaced as he swung a fist at me, barely dodging out of its way. I kicked at his fist and he staggered back several feet, but held his ground and swung at me yet again. "Hulk smash!"

"Is that all you can –" I exhaled sharply as something slammed into me from the side. The world was a blur for a second before I hit the ground sharply, rolling a dozen or more times before lack of momentum caused me to stop. The night sky was a beautiful sight, but short-lived as Callisto paused next to me, sneering. "That almost hurt."

Her limbs were a blur of dark and light as she started swinging at me with both her fists and her feet. I shielded my face with my forearms, much like a boxer, and rolled onto my feet. When she realized that she couldn't beat me senseless, she attempted to make a vortex like she had in the house.

"I don't think so."

I stepped into the vortex's sharp winds and braced myself, howling as she slammed into me. Much like hitting a brick wall, she bounced back several feet and rolled on the ground before she came to a stop. I stomped over to her and picked her up by the front of her leather halter top, frowning.

"Dumb girls. Can't hurt Hulk."

He rushed toward me from behind and I pivoted on my heel sharply. I threw Callisto like a javelin, something like the move that Colossus and I practiced with Wolverine – the fastball special. Hulk apparently hadn't expected a flying object and halted in his tracks as the woman flew by him. While his big green eyes were focused on her, I kicked off the ground and raced through the air and caught her by her leg seconds before she would have slammed into the ground.

"I'll accept your thanks at a later date." Since killing her wasn't exactly an option that I was comfortable with, I threw her a dozen or so feet in the opposite direction and focused on the no-longer-confused Hulk. "Hey buddy… I'm sorry about that."

He launched himself toward me and I felt his rough skin brush my fingers as I ducked out of the way. He pivoted and I performed an aerial back flip. A hand clutched at me and I dove toward the ground, arms outstretched. I hit the ground hard and pushed off with my hands, performing a weird sort of push up that left me flying over the Hulk's head.

"Dumb girl!"

"I'm not that dumb. In fact –" I was cut off when he clamped a large hand around my midsection. The breath left my lungs as I braced my hands on his green skin and tried to pry my way out, but to no avail. "I'm sorry, let me go!"

A growl escaped his lips, spittle hitting my face. I stared up into his green eyes intently and searched for some sign of Dr. Bruce Banner, but I wasn't sure if I'd ever find any sign whatsoever. My mind raced as I searched for a way out of the scenario, but nothing seemed plausible. In a hands down brawl, there was no way that I could ever beat the immensely godlike strength of the Hulk.

When he held me like a broken china doll, I had a better chance of winning the lottery than escaping.

"Hulk crush!"

My eyes widened in horror as he squeezed me tightly, several ribs cracking immediately. I wheezed and punched at him wildly, kicking my legs angrily as he squeezed the life out of me.

Bright flashes of light appeared between us and the Hulk staggered back, releasing his hold on me immediately. In the back of my mind, I recognized the source of the so-called fireworks, but couldn't seem to make any sense of them as I hit the ground hard. There was something both unwanted and distant about actually feeling pain, real pain; it wasn't the momentary flash of pain that was associated with the usual fight or spar, even one with Logan. It was real, sharp pain.

And it didn't fade quickly enough for my tastes.

I choked on air as I sucked in deep lung fulls of oxygen, my fingers clutching at the ground. My vision cleared abruptly and I merely nodded my head when a hand tugged at my shoulder.

"I'm good." I pushed myself to my feet and wobbled slightly as my healing factor knitted my ribs back together. "You should've stayed out of sight, Jubes. He's going to be pissed."

Another feral roar echoed through the night air and it was quickly followed by the loud thumping sound of angry and large footfalls.

"That's putting it mildly, _chica_. Let's get the fuck out of Dodge."

I grabbed Jubilee by the arm and shot up sharply, rocketing several dozen feet into the air within seconds. Searching the ground below, I frowned at the sight of a very angry Hulk. Even though I knew she wouldn't appreciate it, I threw Jubilee higher up into the air like a javelin and focused on the huge metal object that flew toward me.

"Swing set," I muttered at the same time that I kicked my feet out and shoved the object back toward the ground. No more than a few seconds later, I reached out and caught Jubilee as gently as I could in one arm. "Sorry."

"You – don't do that! Don't ever do that again!" She kicked out at me with one foot and I winced when her booted foot caught me in my recently-healed ribs. "Going to try to blind him again." More bright _pafs_ lit up the night sky and the Hulk hissed angrily as several hit him in the face. "I think it's working."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that all she'd really accomplished was pissing him off. While he rioted and smashed his hands against the ground, I racked my head for a plan. Nothing came to mind.

The smell of the air twisted and I frowned as I inhaled audibly. It was a heavy smell of ozone, much like the smell that lingered after Storm used her abilities to call forth lightning. I glanced upwards and searched the starry sky, but saw nothing.

Then, I remembered who Fury had said he was sending as backup.

An imposing figure flew through the sky and crashed into the Hulk. The resulting sound was reminiscent of a thunder crash. Immediately, lightning struck the two figures and lit up the sky brightly.

"Dude's got a cape on."

"Dude thinks he's a god," I muttered in reply. There was a whirring sound, a familiar sound, that made me sigh in relief. A small and discreet SHIELD helicopter raced toward the site. "SRU. Better late than never."

While the god and the Hulk battled it out on the ground, I watched as the helicopter landed on the ground a safe distance away. Jubilee and I readjusted so that she was clinging to my back again, much like a child – partly for comfort and mostly so that she had a better view of the situation below.

There were only six SRU members, but they moved toward the fighting duo in a practiced formation. The man in the lead used hand motions and I frowned. Without warning Jubilee to hang on, I sailed toward the ground sharply, barely remembering to call out a vocal warning of my presence before we landed on the ground.

"You can't shoot him, Morgan. It's not going to do anything but piss him off."

He was garbed in the standard SRU uniform, his face painted in matching camouflage. His white teeth practically lit up when he flashed me a broad smile. "Got a dose of the Doc's tranq's. His personal cocktail. Casing was designed by Stark – one of the only things known to man that can penetrate the bastard's green skin." Deciding that he'd offered me more than enough information, he motioned for two of the men to proceed forward. "Situation should be under control."

Not completely convinced, I watched the situation from a safe distance – I kept myself between the battle and the SRU and Jubilee, knowing damn well that there was no guarantee that either side would refrain from firing at me. I couldn't very well take into the air and head back to the Institute with Jubilee, not until I was sure that the Hulk was under control.

Thor held his own, that much was for certain. I'd never faced the man in an actual fight but I'd seen him in action before. In fact, I'd only spoken to him on a few separate occasions – one of them was when he'd tried hitting on me. It had been rather awkward. But, the man had superhuman strength, better than average agility and fighting speeds, and could call lightning and wind at his will.

He had the slightest advantage over the Hulk, but not in a drawn out fight. Thankfully, the SRU had come prepared. I'd lost count of the number of shots that the SRU had fired, but the green behemoth finally slowed ten minutes after their arrival.

"I think he's finally going down," Jubes muttered in my ear as the Hulk fell face first onto the ground. "Is he down?"

The Hulk morphed back into the size and form of Bruce Banner, but remained on the ground. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as the SRU fanned together, adamantium shackles in hand, and prepared the man for transportation.

Agent Kurt Morgan, of course, chose that moment to appear at my side and clear his throat. He held out a radio and lifted a brow in challenge. "Fury's on the line for you."

There was no point in avoiding talking to the man, so I sighed and grabbed the radio roughly. "What do you want?"

"Just wanted to thank you for a job well done and assure you that –"

"Thanks. Don't call me again," I interrupted. I tossed the radio back at Morgan and offered the man a half-smile. "Good seeing you again, Morgan. Take good care of your passenger."

Jubilee tried to respond, but I didn't give her much of an opportunity as I kicked off the ground and rushed back toward the Jeep. She talked a mile a minute as we climbed into the vehicle and headed back toward the freeway; I was at the wheel since her head still hurt. We looked dirty and worn, and it was pretty much inevitable that we would have to explain ourselves to someone at the Institute – which meant nearly everyone would know the story by the next day.

"Not exactly the night out we had in mind," I murmured as Jubilee frantically texted Pete on her phone. She didn't say anything, and when I glanced over at her I noticed that she was sitting with her head resting on the window. "When we get closer, I want you to call ahead and tell Jean that you're going to need a scan. You hit your head pretty hard and it will only take a few minutes."

Thanks to the expensive equipment Charles Xavier had on hand, there would be no need to make a trip to the local emergency room. Jean had everything she needed to take care of nearly any medical situation. In fact, she could even perform most minor surgeries, if necessary.

"Just get us home, _chica_," she mumbled. "I want to see Pete."

I pinched her leg and sighed. "You can't fall asleep, Jubes. You know the drill. So, text Pete and tell me everything he says."

"He said he plans to tuck me into bed after a long bath. He thinks there's room in his tub for both of us. I told him we could use some bubble bath and lather up and –"

"Changed my mind." I switched lanes and eased onto the interstate. "Just – just don't fall asleep."

I focused on the road and silently wondered what had happened to Bruce Banner, whether Mystique had been tracking us or him, and why it all felt like it was tied to Essex. A pit of dread curdled in my gut as I struggled to connect dots that weren't really there.

Something was on the horizon, and it was closing in faster than we could put the pieces together.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author's Note:** First of all, Happy Belated Thanksgiving, everyone! I hope all of you had an amazing Holiday! Second of all, as the story currently stands, this chapter marks almost the halfway point. There's still a great deal more to do on my end and the chapter I'm currently working on is a doozy! I would like to apologize for the fact that there have been gaps in between updates, but hopefully things will pick up on my end since I finished the semester TODAY! Hope you all enjoy and continue to read about Danielle's adventures!

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Seventeen~**_

"I was just wondering –"

"I know exactly what you were wondering, and I cannot tell you anything, Danielle. Look." Jesse paused and turned sharply on his heel and shook his head. "You are already aware that I have been working with Voltic - Aubrey Howell. We are continuing the search for the man known as Nathaniel Essex."

"You say so much by saying so little, Bedlam."

"Be that as it may, there is nothing else that is pertinent to this conversation that I wish to share with you." He adjusted the strap of the bag slung across his shoulder as his eyes raked over me. "I have plans. Excuse me."

I took a step back and watched as he hurried down the hall, his gait smooth and easy. Even though we'd never been close friends, I hadn't hesitated in seeking out the mutant known as Bedlam when I'd realized that he was probably the one acting as a liaison between Xavier and Voltic. After all, it wasn't likely that the older man understood most of the technological mumbo jumbo that she spewed.

Frustrated, I tucked my hands in the pockets of my jeans and wandered through the silver hallway of the lower levels of the Xavier Institute. Class was in session, which meant that I had absolutely nothing of value to do. Though the Professor had offered to let me help in the office with filing and returning emails, I'd politely declined.

I wasn't much of a filer.

Sighing, I slipped into the hangar and winced at the grinding noise that echoed through the cavernous room. Spying a figure on a ladder near the smallest of the three jets, I hopped down over the stair railing and walked toward him. Music blared from speakers I couldn't see, but I recognized the tune right off of the bat.

"My Dad was a big CCR fan, too."

Surprised, Scott nearly toppled sideways off of the ladder before he regained his balance. He glanced down at me, a smear of grease on his cheek and other mechanical fluids on his shirt and arms, before a hesitant smile curled his lips. "Danielle, you scared me a little bit." He adjusted his hold on a very intimidating looking ratchet and looked around, as though expecting I'd brought others along with me. "You like Creedence?"

"Definitely not my favorite from the era, but yeah." I shrugged my shoulders and nonchalantly braced one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. "Usual maintenance or a repair?"

"Repair." Obviously deciding that he could conduct small talk while working, he stuck his head back into the large gap and got back to work. "Just need to replace a few hoses and a part and it should be good to go. Looking for work?"

No matter how long it had been, I still found myself a little uncomfortable around Scott Summers. I supposed that the feeling stemmed from the fact that he'd been my personal drill sergeant my senior year at the Institute. He'd put me on a restricted diet and had overseen vigorous cardio and strength exercises on a daily basis.

I still wasn't quite sure how to make the transition from student to colleague, let alone friend, with him. It had been easier with the others, even with Jean. The Professor even felt like a distant grandfather figure, except for when I was in trouble. But, Scott was another matter entirely.

"Yeah, I guess I am looking for work." I pushed off the floor to hover in the air next to him, dark eyes raking over the mechanical innards. I knew enough about mechanics to take care of a vehicle, if I had one, but not enough to know how to dive right into the expensive machine. "What do you need me to do?"

Scott motioned to a pallet on the ground and pulled his head back out. "I could use a hand with that. It would save me having to –" he cut off suddenly when I picked up the object, by the chains, and lifted it into the air. "Do you ever get tired of just hefting stuff around that I would have had to use an engine lift for?" Scott shook his head and eyed my grip on the part. "Just hold it there for a second."

It was another few minutes before he was ready for the part, and it took us fifteen minutes to get the part into place and connected properly. Scott was the type to explain exactly what the part was for and how it worked, but it was hard for me to follow. I simply nodded and shrugged and handled the so-called heavy lifting.

"You just saved me at least two hours." Scott smiled broadly as he wiped his hands on a shop rag and slowly climbed down the ladder. I landed on the floor next to him as he walked toward a miniature refrigerator. He bent, retrieved two bottles of water, and tossed one in my direction. "I appreciate it."

I twisted the top off of the water and took a generous swig. I wasn't covered in a fine sheen of sweat, just dirt. Unlike Scott, I hadn't overexerted myself whatsoever. Still, the water was cool and refreshing. "It's no problem. I was just looking for something to do." And I sure hadn't expected to come across Scott, nor offered the opportunity to get my hands dirty. Suddenly conscious of the grease on my hands, I picked up a clean shop towel and wiped my hands dutifully. "Surprised you don't have class today."

"Bobby has been easing himself into the position. He went back and got his teaching degree after he became a CPA," he explained with a shrug. "He's good with math and the kids like him. This way I can focus more on my Headmaster duties." Even though Professor Xavier was the official Headmaster, I knew that Scott was his second-in-command. "And on general upkeep, of course. It's nice to be able to focus on tasks that I often have to save for weekends."

"Bet it gives you more time to relax."

Scott dropped down onto a mobile mechanic's stool, his elbows on his knees. "I've had more time to help Jean with the, uh, the wedding."

"It's not far away. Excited?"

"Yeah." He chugged the rest of his water and stared down at the empty bottle, shoulders slumped. "I'm glad she's handling all of the details. I don't mind giving an opinion, but the rest goes straight over my head."

I pulled a stool towards me and sat down, facing him. "You should see the dress she stuck me in. I look stupid in it."

"She showed me pictures." Scott grinned broadly, but his smile wilted quickly. "I think you looked pretty. You all did."

"You're going to love her dress, too."

"I can't believe you, of all people, picked it out. No offense. You just – I guess I always figured when Jean found a dress that Ro would have helped her. They always shop together."

"I didn't think I would help her find it either." In fact, I still wasn't sure _how_ I had found it. Though, as time passed, I began to suspect that damn _Oliver_ more and more. "Have you guys finished reserving rooms?"

"I think so. We rented out a bungalow on the beach for us, the Professor rented one for, well, the attending X-Men." The grin returned, ever so briefly. "And we reserved a little over a dozen rooms for Jean's family and friends. We're keeping the ceremony small and intimate."

Jean wanted a beach wedding and had found the perfect location in Hawaii. She'd showed me pictures of a beach near cliffs that overlooked a waterfall. It looked like something out of a bridal magazine or a movie, and the smile that lit up Jean's face every time she mentioned the location was intoxicating.

"I'm kind of excited. I've never been to Hawaii."

"It's beautiful there. I'm getting married there." He lifted his left hand, still partially stained with grease and oil, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'm getting married in Hawaii. To Jean. We're getting married."

Chuckling, I nodded my head. "That's what I've heard. At least you two get a whole week in Hawaii after the ceremony before you have to come back here for the full reception." I was kind of jealous that the rest of the wedding party would only get the three days before the ceremony and a day after and then we would get shipped back to New York. "Then you guys get to focus on the Lake House, right?"

"Yeah, we plan to finish remodeling it. We want our own space, and it's only a short walk to the Institute. It's quiet."

"I told Logan I'd help him with the heavy lifting." At Scott's confused expression, I shrugged one shoulder. "We're going to finish framing the bathroom and the new kitchen while you're still in Hawaii. We want to get the patio done, too, if we have the time and the manpower. Jean gave me all of the samples and plans you drew up for the projects," I hastened to explain when his brows dipped behind the safety of his ruby red glasses. "We're doing everything to your specifications. It's going to be the Professor's wedding gift."

"Wow."

"I'm sure it's not all you'll get. I mean, the man _is _loaded and you're like his son." I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the remaining water in the bottle for a long moment. "Is something wrong?"

Scott said nothing for a very long moment. Finally, he exhaled sharply. "I'm worried about security here while I'm gone. And I'm worried about security in Hawaii."

I searched his face for a long moment and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. Other than a quick debriefing with Xavier and Scott, nothing had been said about the incident with the Hulk and the two Brotherhood members.

"Because of what happened the other night?"

"Partly." He frowned and sighed heavily. "I can't shake this feeling that the incident is connected, even indirectly, to Essex. LeBeau has been in and out of the Institute, and I get the feeling that he knows a lot more than he's saying. I have this theory – but it's crazy."

"I'm all for crazy."

He inhaled and exhaled sharply. "Essex is a geneticist, right? Mutants are going missing and he's obviously conducting tests on them. I think he's either gathering mutations for his own use or trying to find a way to overpower all known mutations. Think about it," he held up a hand to stop me before I interrupted. "There have been rumors about a possible mutant cure in the works for a couple years now. What if it _is _possible with genetics?"

"So you're worried that if you're right, Essex, or whoever is behind everything, will use the absence of most of the X-Men to invade the School?" It had happened with Stryker, and his intention had been to collect Cerebro from the depths of the School. But, he had also kidnapped a number of students. "I"ll stay here."

"No," he answered swiftly. "I've upgraded security and arranged for additional bodies here. Even though I don't like it, I agreed with the Professor to allow the SRU –"

"You've got to be shitting me!"

"- To act as a security team in our absence. They'll be here next week. There's no real worry that they'll set up equipment to spy on us, as we have Jesse and Kitty on our side. They can detect any electronic, hidden or not. But, they have the manpower and the experience to make sure that the students are well looked after."

I pictured Kurt Morgan and remembered his comment about mutants. Though I'd worked with him, rather closely, for a long time, I still wasn't sure why he'd joined the SRU. Part of me feared that it was because he wanted to be able to have a fighting chance against mutants, against people naturally stronger than him.

"Don't you trust them? You worked with them, led them."

"I didn't lead them," I corrected him, shaking my head. "I was the liaison between the SRU and SHIELD and the X-Men. The real leader of the SRU is Agent Morgan, and I'm not sure where we stand. But, I think so."

"Jean wants you at our wedding, and I do, too. It's important." He rose to his feet and walked back toward the miniature refrigerator and tossed his empty water bottle into the nearby trashcan. He kept his back to me, and I couldn't help but notice the taut muscles in his shoulders. "She's pregnant."

"Who's – what?" Surprised, I pushed myself to my feet so quickly that the stool rolled back several feet. "Jean's pregnant?"

"Eight or nine weeks along now," he murmured quietly. "She doesn't want to announce it until she's well into her second trimester. Only the Professor knows." Scott glanced over his shoulder and smiled wryly. "She just found out last week."

"Congratulations, Dad."

He chuckled, but I could tell that his heart wasn't entirely in it. "She's off the rosters already, citing the need to focus on wedding plans. I hope you'll use discretion; she doesn't want anyone to know."

"Secret's safe with me." I tried to picture Jean with a burgeoning belly, but the picture was too blurry in my head. But, I could picture her with a newborn in her arms, a smile curling her lips. "Why are you so worried? It's not like the Hawaiian air is bad for her." But, maybe flying was?

He said nothing, but the muscles in his back flexed and tensed. I almost wished that I had Jean's ability to read his mind so that I could understand what made him so tense. But, only one thing came to mind.

"You don't want me here because you think this Essex guy is going to make an appearance in Hawaii."

"There's only three people I know of that are virtually indestructible. And I wouldn't trust one of the three with my life, let alone the lives of my soon-to-be wife and my unborn child." He spun around and folded his arms across his broad chest. "I trust you. I trust you more than I trust Logan."

"Logan would never do anything to –"

"I know," he interrupted. "But, I trust you like you're my own blood, Danielle. I just know that I can count on you to make sure Jean is safe, no matter what."

"Of course."

"And you're in the bridal party, so you'll be with her every step of the way. You're trained for protecting – police academy and SHIELD – and you've got your X-Men training under your belt. Logan may have the enhanced senses, but I think you've got the edge."

"You're really worried, aren't you?" I murmured, thoughtful.

"I've already talked to Logan and he's agreed to be one of my groomsmen, just so I can keep him close. He hates the idea of wearing a tux, though. I haven't told Jean yet, but I'm sure she can round up someone for the spot on her side." Scott chuckled, but it sounded almost forced. "I know Vivian has a healing ability, too, but hers is much more subdued than yours. And, given her background, she's already offered to stay here with the students to make sure that the SRU stays in line. But, nothing is concrete as of yet."

_Bet that made Wolverine unhappy_, I thought to myself. I couldn't even picture Logan attending a wedding; but the thought of him attending a wedding without his Viv by his side seemed completely unnatural.

"You know I'll do everything I can, Scott. Even if you'd only told me to protect Jean, without any of the background, you know I would have –"

"But you deserve the full story, and now you've got it." I felt his eyes rake over me and wished that I could see his eyes. But, I couldn't, nobody could, because of the ever-present ruby quartz. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd consider staying for the full week after the ceremony. The bungalows the Professor reserved are ours for the duration. They're only a hundred yards or so away from each other."

There was really nothing to say other than, "Of course. You can count on me, Scott." To my surprise, in the space of just under an hour, we'd finally crossed over that threshold.

Scott Summers almost seemed like a friend.

"Let's go upstairs and grab some lunch. I could use a hand washing a couple cars." He shifted from foot to foot in what appeared to be a nervous fashion. "If you're up for it, that is."

Shrugging, I smiled and motioned for him to lead the way. "Only if you remember that you can't control my diet anymore."

He laughed as he led the way to the stairs. But, by the time we stepped into the elevator, he'd already started talking about the benefits of a diet heavy in protein and light in carbohydrates.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movements. I simply like to toy with them.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Eighteen~**_

"So, did you sleep with 'im yet?"

"Did you sleep with whom yet?"

"Shut up, Marie!" Agitated, I threw magazine across the salon in irritation. She chuckled in response and I folded my arms across my chest and ignored the hairdresser as he continued cutting my long and dark curly locks. "You're lucky I halfway care what my hair looks like."

Jubilee was in the midst of a spa pedicure, Kitty in the chair next to hers, and Marie sat across the room from me, her hair covered in slips of foil. Jean, Ororo, and Vivian were in the rear of the salon, well out of sight, indulging in body wraps and massages and things that made my skin crawl.

I could handle letting some strange guy wash my hair and cut it. Hell, I'd even agreed, however reluctantly, to let him add some red highlights. But, I wasn't going to let someone slather me in oil and wrap me in banana leaves. The day at the spa that Jean had treated me to while we had been in D.C. had been enjoyable until the massage had turned into some weird mud bath. So, I wasn't too sure that I wanted a repeat so soon after D.C.

"She's been thinking about sleeping with Creed," Jubilee replied, answering Kitty's question. She popped her gum loudly and texted madly on her phone, ignoring the woman scrubbing her feet. "Not real sure why, but Marie said there's some sexual tension and, hey, who am I to judge?"

I stared at Kitty in the mirror's reflection and noted her furrowed brows, but couldn't have anticipated the small smile that curled her lips. "Explains why whenever I see him, he's practically stalking her."

"He is not!" I argued. Thoughtfully, I chewed on the inside of my lip and wondered if she spoke the truth. "He does pop up rather conveniently." Oftentimes, he appeared when I least expected him – which left me unable to prepare myself in any way whatsoever.

"I could insert a _that__'__s what she said_ joke her, but it's not very classy."

"Stuff it, Jubes."

"Again…" she trailed off, causing Kitty and the two women diligently scrubbing their feet to chuckle in earnest. The hairdresser tackling my hair snorted, but wisely said nothing. "He's technically on our side, so it's not like you'd be boning a bad guy or something. And since he stopped growing his hair out, he's not half bad looking. He's kind of hot right after he shaves."

Since I knew exactly the look that she referred to, I didn't bother to reply. There was something oddly appealing about the man; he could look feral and deadly one minute, but cleaned up well the next. The combination left me confused but obviously attuned to him, and it frustrated me to no end.

"He is pretty damn old, Dani."

"Shit yeah he is," Jubilee agreed with Kitty's assessment. "But, so's Logan. And we all know that any one of us would probably throw caution to the wind and take that guy for a ride if –"

"Don't get any ideas, Jubilee." A robe-clad figure slipped into the chair next to Kitty and dipped her feet into the specialty salt water scrub tub. Her hair was braided and pulled back from her face, but her skin was alight with warmth – likely from her massage and body wrap. "But, you're right – I bet any one of you would sleep with Logan if you had the chance."

Jubilee nodded in agreement, but Kitty at least had the good grace to look guilty. I, on the other hand, wasn't entirely sure how true the statement was. There was an odd quality to the relationship I had with Logan that shifted constantly from mentor to family figure to _oh wow, he__'__s hot_. In some ways, he had often slipped into the role of a sometimes father figure over the years. But, I wasn't blind and admired his physique when I could.

_Man, I__'__m screwed up_, I admitted to myself with a frown.

But, in the grand scheme of things, I knew that I would always look up to him like a mentor.

"I've known Creed a long time," Vivian murmured as a woman began to scrub her pink feet. "He's a bastard, but he's got a code that he follows. Before –" she cut off and I met her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. She wouldn't say it, but she meant before Stryker had found him and gotten the Sabretooth under his control. "Well, he was to me what Logan was to you, Marie. He picked me up, set me on my feet, and got me back in motion."

"Ah find that hard to believe."

"Well, it's the truth. He found me outside of Atlantic City and got me cleaned up. I was on the streets, making a go of it fighting in an underground circuit." I secretly wondered what the employees at the spa thought of our group, but decided that Jean probably erased what she needed to from their minds. "He drove me to some place in Kentucky, stuck me in a house he'd rented, put money in an account for me, and told me to set myself straight."

"That's kind of cool."

Vivian nodded in agreement as she leaned back in the oversized chair with a sigh. "I contacted my high school in Seattle and they sent my transcripts to the local college so I could enroll in classes. I studied criminal justice and had just finished my first semester when Vic showed up again. He put more money in the account, pointed me toward a local dojo, and left again. A year later, when he showed up, he offered to send me overseas to study with a friend of his."

"He sent you overseas?"

"Yep. I went to Japan and stayed there for three years. I took courses online and learned the language and as many different martial arts as I could. When I came back to the States, he handed me a brick of cash, keys to a Jeep, and told me that if he ever caught me fighting in the underground circuit again that he'd slit my throat."

"Harsh," Kitty mumbled. "But he _did_ take care of you, I guess. That's kind of cool."

"I traveled a lot, made my way doing a lot of paralegal work for lawyers. I learned a lot about international law. I stayed in Moscow for awhile and learned from some ex-KGB members before I ended up in Budapest. I liked it there. And I learned a lot about myself." Vivian abruptly folded her arms behind her head and sighed heavily. "You want to sleep with him, go for it."

It was easy for her to say. It wasn't so easy for me to do.

Jubilee tucked her cell phone into her purse and ran her fingers through her short black locks jerkily. "I think we need to bring out the champagne and get this thing started right. Jean's bachelorette party is in two days. We leave for Hawaii in five." A cheer erupted from her throat that made me smile in spite of everything. "Let's celebrate in style!"

Flutes of champagne were produced when Jean and Ororo appeared from the back room of the salon. I watched in the mirror as Jean lifted the flute to her lips and pretended to sip before she sat it down on a table near the styling station. Her green eyes met mine briefly as she settled back to allow the hairdresser full access to her red locks.

**Remember, it****'****s our little secret**.

I didn't need to be reminded; it was obvious that Jean didn't want the others to know. But, she put on a good show and nobody noticed that while they consumed several glasses, hers continued to remain full.

Instead, I watched the hairdresser as he scrunched my hair in his fingers. I wasn't sure what to think about the hairstyle – it was several inches shorter and amplified by the red highlights. But, I almost liked it.

By the time I was settled in the very same chair Jubilee had occupied earlier, I was ready to find some excuse to escape the entire ordeal. Jubilee and Kitty were in the back of the salon for massages and body wraps while Ororo and Vivian chatted amiably under the hairdryers. Jean sat in the chair next to me, quiet, as a woman carefully painted her toenails.

"John is pissed that he ain't walkin' me down the aisle."

"He isn't?" Surprised at the revelation, I squirmed when the woman on the small stool in front of me scrubbed the underside of my foot roughly. "Why isn't he?"

"He ain't part of the bridegroom's party, Dani." At my surprised glance, she shook her head. "Scott's brother is his best man. Ah don't think Ah ever met him either. Apparently he's been at the School a time or two, but Ah ain't seen him. And Warren's his other groomsman."

"So his brother –"

"Alex," Jean supplied lightly. "His brother is named Alex, Alexander Summers." Her green eyes met mine briefly and she smiled. "He's nice."

"Hank's his other groomsman and he's walkin' ya down the aisle."

"Hank?" I replied, twisting my face up slightly. "Doesn't Scott have any friends that could stand in? No offense."

"Ah get Warren 'cause Ororo gets Alex. Sorry, sugah."

"Could be worse," I decided, shrugging. "What about your family, Jean? You didn't say if any of them would be in the bridal party?"

"I'm not exactly very close with my family anymore, except for my parents. So, they'll be in attendance but not part of the bridal party except for my cousin, more than likely. You two," she brushed lightly against my mind, "are part of my family."

Since it was a compliment, I smiled slightly and wondered how I had gotten to where I was. Not so long ago, I was a senior in high school, cheering on my classmates at a pep rally before the rival football game. And then my mutation had manifested – rather late according to all of the experts. Xavier had shown up and he'd taken me back to the Institute to avoid any physical backlash from the Negative Nancies in the Friends of Humanity.

And then, somehow, I'd wound up enrolled. Then, the place was home.

Frowning, I ignored the conversation around me as the woman finished scrubbing my feet. In truth, the sensation was rather odd, something I'd experienced rather infrequently. But, it was also relaxing. She rinsed them off and patted them dry with a soft towel and prepared to paint them in colors that would match Marie's.

Torn from my reverie, I glanced up sharply when I realized that Marie had been calling my name and poking my arm.

"Ah said are yah ready for the bachelorette party? Warren rented us a limo."

"A what? Huh?" I blinked a few times and slowly shrugged. "Sure. I'm ready to have some fun."

I glanced over at Jean and wondered, though quietly, how much fun a bridal shower and a bachelorette party would actually be when you weren't allowed to drink. But, I didn't bother to ask.

"I still say the strip club is a good idea," Vivian offered, chuckling.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know - a lot of dialogue in this chapter. But, it's necessary to set everything up. The countdown to that "magic moment" continues... I can promise that it all starts in Chapter Twenty! (But really gets interesting in Twenty-One. Hoo boy.)


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movement. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author****'****s Note:** So, the bad news is that I miscounted and that chapter we're all waiting for isn't Chapter twenty-one. But, the good news is that it's chapter twenty! Welcome to the bachelorette party. Keep in mind that the party itself is pretty tame and mild because Miss Jean is pregnant (don't tell the others, it's a secret!) and the X-Women are far more responsible than the men of the X-Men. Please feel free to read and review – maybe it will inspire me to be sure I post the next chapter first thing tomorrow as a nice Christmas present.

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Nineteen~**_

"Do hurry, Danielle. We only have an hour before the girls are going to be back down here and ready to head out for the evening."

Sighing, I continued to pack away the gifts that Jean had received during her bridal party. Ororo, her maid of honor, had been wise enough to decide that the bridal shower itself should take place in the city so that the bachelorette party could be scheduled for the same evening. So, we'd rented an intimate banquet room in one of the finest hotels in New York City and contacted caterers for finger foods and snacks and a beautiful tower of delicious cupcakes.

Ororo had invited more than two dozen women that I'd never met before, claiming that they were relatives, colleagues, or longtime friends of Jean's. My duties had been to ensure that everyone was well taken care of, that nobody interrupted the festivities, and that all of the gifts were marked clearly. After all, Jean wanted to be sure that she could send thank you cards for everything.

"I don't get why they don't simply call it a lingerie shower."

I stacked more garment boxes in the large shopping bags and tucked the last card into a shoebox. Though there were enough gifts to warrant several trips upstairs to the suite for the average person, I simply gathered everything up in my arms and eyed Ororo thoughtfully.

"The leftover food was wrapped up and sent to the nearest homeless shelter, at Jean's request. I already tipped the concierge and the catering company. Everyone's cleared out except for the ladies going out tonight." And I was thankful for that. Jean's mom was overbearing and the rest of her family irritated the life out of me. "Are we through here?"

"Let's head upstairs and change."

The elevator ride was mercifully short, and the suite that had been reserved for us was more than opulent. It was magnificent in size and upscale finishings, clearly crafted and designed purely for the comfort of its guests. There were four separate rooms, three of which contained two queen beds per room; the fourth room was a master suite purely for Jean.

Thankfully, Jean had decided that she wanted her bachelorette party to be intimate. As such, only the women that resided at the Institute and called her a friend had been invited. Only a few of us were in attendance, however. So, cramped quarters were no problem whatsoever. I deposited the gifts in a corner in the living room before I slipped into the room I shared with Kitty, Jubilee, and Marie.

They were in varying stages of undress and chatted happily as they prepared for the evening. I ignored Marie's laughter as I stared at the garment bag she had laid out on the bed I was to share with her.

"You said I didn't have to wear a dress tonight, Marie."

"Ah lied."

I unzipped the bag and rolled my eyes at the little black dress. It wasn't as girly as I'd feared, but it was definitely more than I'd expected. But, since I knew better than to argue, I simply grabbed my overnight bag and slipped into the en-suite bathroom.

There was no point in touching my hair or make-up; the girls would see to both tasks. Instead, I washed my face, applied lotion to my skin, and dabbed clear deodorant to the undersides of my arms. Since it was supposed to be a fun night out, I changed out of the slacks and blouse. I tugged off the white cotton bikini briefs and white bra and tried to feel confident as I tugged on black bikini panties and a black lace bra.

"Not too bad," I decided after I'd slipped the dress on. It fit me as snuggly as my SHIELD uniform had and did little to deter from the lines of my body. It amplified the size of my chest and made me look more feminine than I truly felt necessary. The hem hit me just barely mid-thigh and the straps of the dress were decorated in shiny rhinestones. "I'm glad Marie has good taste." I rolled my dirty clothes into a ball and shoved them down in the overnight bag before I slipped out of the en-suite.

Nobody said a single word.

It was somewhat awkward to have three women fawn over me. Marie tackled my hair and Kitty and Jubilee argued over my makeup as they applied light blush, eyeliner and shadow, mascara, and some kind of red lipstick they claimed would last the entire night. Jubilee shoved my feet into a pair of black peep-toe pumps and Marie pronounced me ready to face the world.

Somehow, she'd managed to tame my hair into some sort of twist that looked almost perfect.

Tabby, Rahne, Vivian, Ororo, and the bride herself waited for us in the living room. Everyone was in high spirits as we fell into the usual feminine trap of praising everyone's appearances before we were even able to make it out the door. Everyone was dressed to the nines and ready for a night out on the town.

The few rides I'd taken in limos hadn't included giddy female laughter, playfully gyrating hips, or lewd comments thrown out the window to strangers. But, I enjoyed it all the same. Vivian's healing factor was nothing on par with mine, but since I knew it was very difficult for her to get drunk, I happily drank anything that was placed in my hand. Jean claimed to be on a cleansing diet and drank only juice or soda, but nobody cared.

They were having too much fun.

We visited an upscale restaurant and had canapés and champagne, but the food was too rich for our tastes. The limo toured the city and we drank in the comfort of the limo and giggled and teased Jean about her upcoming nuptials until Tabby suggested a nightclub as our next destination.

The last stop of the evening was a nightclub that Tabby claimed had the best food in town. We settled at a table in the VIP section and laughed at everyone and everything as platters of food were delivered. I ate heartily and drank vodka martinis like water, smiling happily at everyone.

When we finally made our way onto the dance floor, I felt somehow freed. I danced wildly, closing my eyes and letting the music pump through my system like an aphrodisiac. Time held no real meaning there. We danced in a cluster together, friends and colleagues comfortable enough with one another to brush against one another and not be bothered.

"Ah love this music!" Marie shouted, inches away from my face. "Ah love yah, Dani!" Without warning, she leaned in and planted a wet kiss just inches from my lips.

Then she started laughing.

Snorting, I slung an arm around her shoulder and danced with her. We were quickly separated when a tall and dark man eased his way between us and placed his hands on my hips. Too delirious to care, I smiled up at him and grooved. He rubbed his pelvis against mine and I reciprocated, shaking and gyrating as the music's beat intensified.

He spun me around abruptly so that my back was against his front. Goose pimples prickled on my skin when he ran his hands down my arms and ground his pelvis into my backside. Then his hot breath hit the back of my neck and my stomach turned angrily, but I couldn't quite figure out why.

Without a warning, I strode away from him and made my way back to the VIP section. I wasn't too surprised to find Jean sitting alone at the table we'd vacated, a half-smile on her lips and her phone in her hands.

"Dani, is everything ok?" she asked the moment I slid into the booth next to her. "Having fun?"

"A blast." Which was the honest truth, and it surprised me. I didn't think that I was capable of actually having so much fun in that type of setting. "I know you're not though, so I feel kind of bad. This is _your _party, after all."

**I am having fun**, she assured me. She shoved a bottle of beer in my direction and I sipped at it greedily, parched from dancing. **I don****'****t want to dance and drinking isn****'****t really in the cards**.

_We can go somewhere else._

**I don****'****t want to. I****'****m having a good time.** Abruptly, she glanced down at her watch and I followed her gaze. Surprised at the late hour, I shook my head and released a silent curse. **Time certainly does fly when you****'****re having fun, doesn****'****t it?**

I wasn't quite sure how it had gotten to be well past one in the morning, so I shrugged. I knew that the other girls were having too much fun to break away from dancing, but fatigue was obvious in Jean's eyes. Torn between watching over my friends and seeing to her needs, I placed a hand on her forearm and squeezed gently.

**Scott****'****s on his way in a cab**, she admitted, winking. **They****'****re not throwing him his bachelor party until tomorrow night. Well, I suppose technically it's sometime tonight. I'm not entirely sure. I****'****m just so tired****.**

_You want to go back to the hotel_, I guessed, nodding in understanding. _Does he want me to ride back with you two?_

**No. He thinks the security at the hotel is good enough. He also implied that he had company nearby ****–**** I think that someone may be staying at our hotel. **At my surprised expression, she lifted one bare, slim shoulder in a shrug. **Scott can be overprotective at times**.

While I didn't want her to be alone, I understood that she wanted to spend the rest of the late evening with her fiancé. She held onto my hand as I cleared a way to the exit and led her out into the cool late evening air. Onlookers barely spared us a second glance as we waited at the curb for the line of cabs.

"Here he comes." A cab pulled up to the curb and Scott opened the door for her. "Thank you, Dani. I really do appreciate it." She slipped into the cab and stared at me through the open window. "I already told the others I was leaving." The message echoed in my head, prompting me to realize that she'd informed them telepathically. "And just for the record, the girls can take care of themselves if you're burnt out." **LeBeau is in the club keeping an eye on them**_._

"Have a good night, you two."

I watched the cab pull away from the curb, a frown on my face. Feeling all dressed up with nowhere to go, I sighed. Heading back into the club just didn't appeal to me, but I didn't quite feel comfortable leaving the others behind with only LeBeau to watch their backs. A cab pulled up to the curb and I eyed it for a moment before I opened the door and slid inside. The man's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror in a questioning manner.

I gave him the name of the hotel and he started the fare meter. The moment that he pulled into traffic, I sighed. "It's been one of those nights." He didn't respond. I asked him to take the scenic route and he shrugged.

It took thirty-five minutes to make the fifteen minute trip, and I figured that was enough of a head start for Jean and Scott. I paid the man his fare, with a fat tip, and walked through the lobby doors of the upscale hotel with the eyes of the doorman on my backside.

Since it was the weekend, the hotel bar was still open and doing a decent business. I passed three couples, two haggard business types, and slid onto a stool at the bar with a contented sigh.

"What'll it be?" The bartender offered a warm, if not leering, smile. I eyed him for a long moment before he asked the question again. "Martini?"

I didn't want the smooth stuff – I wanted something that would burn and keep me warm. I wanted something that would cause a normal person to suffer the next day, just so that I could have a reason to celebrate. "Cuervo. Leave me the bottle." I opened the clasp purse Marie had forced upon me and pulled out two large bills. The bartender eyed the cash for a moment before he reached behind the counter and retrieved a new bottle and placed it in front of me. Without further prompting, he retrieved a shot glass and a mug of beer and sat them in front of me as well. "Thanks."

I ignored the conversation in the bar around me as I poured the first shot. There was something about tequila that almost made me forget that it was alcohol that I consumed. It raced down my throat and hit my gut with a resounding hiss that made me almost giddy.

"I'd probably be an alcoholic if I could actually get drunk," I told the businessman beside me. He was older, probably in his forties, and seemed to appreciate my attention. "Do you get drunk?"

"Every weekend, rain or shine."

I laughed and shook my head as I poured myself another shot. "I probably would, if I could. But me? Nope. Can't get drunk. The most I get is buzzed and it wears off too quickly." I slammed back the shot and hissed quietly, licking my lips. "I wonder if people get drunk because they like the taste like I do."

"Probably just get drunk to get drunk," he offered with a noncommittal shrug. "I myself get drunk to forget about my bitch ex-wife and two brats."

I eyed him as I poured a third shot and drank it, chasing it with a swig of beer. The man wasn't unattractive; he clearly put his gym membership to use. But, there was something dull about his dark suit and light eyes. He looked… soft.

Grunting, I slammed back another two shots in quick succession, fast enough for the bartender to stare at me in quiet speculation. I did my best to ignore him as the businessman next to me introduced himself as Max and poured himself a generous dose of my tequila while he told me about what it was like to work in the stock exchange.

"Sounds boring."

"It's a rush sometimes," he corrected, shaking his head. "You have so much money at your fingertips and one wrong decision can cost a family their home, their life savings."

"I used to get to beat the shit out of people and shoot bad guys."

He paused with his shot glass halfway to his mouth. "Come again?"

I chuckled and downed half of my beer with a few gulps. "I used to be a cop. I'm not anymore, though. I moved on, and then came back. It's a long story." I waved my hand in the air and rolled my eyes when he looked at me incredulously. "I could never sit in an office all day and do what you do. I need to be physically involved."

Right away, I knew that I'd said the wrong thing.

There was nothing, at least for me, that was more off-putting than a slime ball that had no problem rubbing your bare thigh with his hand before he'd even learned your name. With my teeth gritted in annoyance, I grabbed his hand and squeezed hard enough to make him pale as a ghost.

"Hands off, Max."

He quickly withdrew his hand and watched me as I pounded back one last shot. "You're sending out mixed signals, babe."

I slid off of the bar stool, purse clutch in my left hand, and walked past him without a single word. There was nothing to say to him that wouldn't result in insults or accusations. He believed that since I was talking to him, that I was flirting with him. In all honesty, I'd merely been making conversation.

_Could head back to the club_. I pondered the idea as I approached the elevator bay. _The girls are probably still dancing their asses off_. And it beat going up to the suite.

The little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I got the distinct feeling that I was being watched. I wondered if Max had followed me out of the bar and spun on the black pump's three-inch heel to confront him and gasped.

Dark eyes roamed over my face and down, down, and back up again. They paused ever-so-momentarily before meeting my gaze. I had avoided him whenever possible since Case's, and didn't know what to say when he pressed the _up _button on the elevator. The doors slid open and he motioned for me to step inside. Unsure of what to think, I stepped inside of the elevator and watched, on bated breath, as he stepped in beside me.

The scent of him was masculine and wild and filled my nostrils immediately. My mouth went dry as I backed against the metal railing of the elevator and stared at his profile, silent as the elevator rose several floors. I found myself comparing the man to Max and decided that he certainly didn't look _soft_. No, he was a hard and unforgiving man with a strong and unforgivingly dangerous body.

_Goddammit_, I thought to myself with a frown. My willingness to take his orders would make sense if the alcohol had affected me, but it hadn't. No, my own stupidity was to blame; stupidity and the strange tingles his mere presence caused to race down my spine.

"Come on."

"This isn't my floor –" He shot me a glare and I bit off the rest of the comment quickly. I stepped off of the elevator behind him and frowned as he walked toward a suite at the end of the hall. "What's going on? Has something happened?" My mind raced as I thought of Jean – maybe she had hurt herself or she and Scott had fought.

He quietly slid the key card into the slot and then opened the door. Then he stepped inside the room. Dumbly, I stared after him for a few moments before I hurried across the expanse of plush carpet and stepped into the suite in confusion. I didn't see Jean and I didn't hear anyone – maybe we needed to get back to the Institute in the hurry.

Silently, he closed the door behind me and bolted it, making the hairs on the back of my neck tingle. I stared at him, eyes wide, as he turned to face me with a blank expression on his face. _Maybe we don__'__t need to get back to the Institute_, I thought to myself, torn between shaking in fear and trembling in something I couldn't quite identify.

Without a warning, he crossed the distance between us and tangled his fingers in my hair. He pulled the curly locks free of the two clips Marie had used to create the twist look and snarled as he stared down at me. I was too startled to do more than stand there in confusion and wonder.

"Wearing my tags," he murmured, practically growling. His eyes made my skin tingle as he stared at my cleavage, reminding me of the fact that I did indeed have his tags tucked into my bra, out of sight. Those dark eyes met mine again as a feral smile curled his lips. "Time to finish what you started, frail."

I didn't have time to react as he captured my lips possessively, drawing me up to his height as he kissed me fiercely. I lost myself in the sensations as my mind raced and my body heated.

He had an interesting way of finishing things.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Truth is Overrated: **I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

**Disclaimer: **The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movement. I simply like to toy with them.

**Author****'****s Note:** This chapter contains VERY EXPLICIT materials. If you are uncomfortable with graphically written sex scenes, please do not read! For all the fans out there… This is the chapter you've all been begging for. I hope that it meets your expectations! Now, without further ado…

* * *

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

_**~Chapter Twenty~**_

His kiss seared my lips as he plundered them hungrily, possessively. I was only half aware of the clutch purse as it slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor. My eyes rolled back in my head as my hands lifted to cup his face, seeking and finding stubble and then soft hair as my fingers tangled in his shaggy locks.

His tongue was dangerous, smooth and slippery and pure heat as it stroked against mine in a tempting manner. I ran my tongue over his and suckled it between my lips.

He pulled back several inches and I forced my eyes open, tightening my grip on his hair. His amber eyes darkened to a near-black and I struggled to breathe as I searched his face for something, anything.

"Got a chance, one chance," his voice rumbled as he ran his hands down my shoulders, over my arms. He rested his hands on my hips and gripped them possessively, like a man that had every right to do whatever he pleased. "If you're gonna say no, say it now before there ain't no turning back."

_No_? I thought to myself, breathing raggedly. _I should say no_._ I should turn around, stalk through that door, and find my way to the suite and wait on Marie and the others._ But, my lips were incapable of speaking the single syllable.

Instead, licked my lips and let my eyes rake over his form. For the first time, I took notice of his clothing and only blinked at the boots, dark jeans, black shirt, and black leather jacket. My hands pushed on his jacket of their own accord, shoving the worn leather over his wide shoulders until he moved his arms and allowed it to fall to the floor.

The thin black dress did little to conceal the heat of his hands pressed against my hips, and his breath fanned against my face heavily. I hesitantly pressed my hands to the front of his black t-shirt and felt the muscles ripple under my touch.

He growled, low and under his breath, and dragged my lips toward his again. He swallowed my gasp as he took possession of my sanity again, his kiss hungry. I kept my eyes open and found myself staring into the dark depths of amber eyes as he jerked me forward by my hips.

My eyes widened in surprise as I felt something hard against my thigh, something that he couldn't hide. My fingers danced lower and I found myself slipping my hands under the hem of his shirt simply to feel his warm skin. _Oh my God._

Abruptly, he pulled back again to glare at me, nostrils flared. "I didn't say no," I argued, breathing heavily. "I didn't say no!" _Goddammit, he can__'__t stop now. He just can__'__t._

He picked me up with one arm and tossed me bodily over his shoulder. I didn't fight his hold because I liked the way that his hand cupped my ass to keep me in place. My legs dangled in the air and I simply watched our progression, and the way his ass looked in his jeans, as he walked across the room.

"Not the couch." I slapped my hand against his back when he tried to dump me onto the spacious black leather couch. "At least take me to a bed." It amazed me how cool and collected I sounded, even to my own ears. Part of me wondered if I was supposed to sound more afraid, more leery.

Instead, I sounded hungry and excited for what lay in store. _This is so crazy_, I thought to myself, body tense in anticipation. After dancing around it for so long, it was finally going to happen.

Though he grunted under his breath, he obliged. I watched our progression from the sitting room through the small hallway and into the large and spacious master suite. Instead of dumping me on the masculine and oversized bed, he sat me down next to it. I managed to regain my balance on the three-inch heels quickly and peered up at him in confusion.

"Here's the bed you wanted, _frail_."

I shook my head as I stepped out of the pumps and pressed my hands against his chest. It took little effort to push him so that he sat down on the bed and I stood in front of him. "I'm not a _frail_, and don't you call me _woman_. I have a name, Creed." And damn, did I feel like I was in control of a crazy situation.

"So do I," he grunted.

Taken aback, I blinked once before I nodded. "You're right, you do. Victor." Saying his name felt illicit, even though I was standing there in front of him, prepared to do unspeakable things to and with him. "I'm sure you remember my name." _God, he better remember. He has to. This isn__'__t just sex. It can__'__t just be sex._

He said nothing as he rested his hands on my hips again, his amber eyes darkening as he tugged me toward him the slightest bit. His fingers crept lower, a few inches lower, until he was able to slide his fingertips under the hem of the dress. The feel of his hands on my bare thighs was warm and intoxicating, and I could only stare at him as he rubbed the pads of his fingers over my skin.

My chest constricted as he ran his hands back up my thighs, but still under the hem of the dress. The silk texture danced over my skin as he lifted the dress higher and higher, pausing the moment that he revealed the plain black bikini-style panties I wore.

"Danielle." My name was like an exaltation worthy of kings, an exhale of need, as he stared at me. My body heated and the blood seemed to rush from my head as I courageously dipped two fingers into my bra in order to retrieve the tags that had somehow bound us together for six and a half years. He inhaled sharply as I pulled the chain over my head and let the tags fall and rest against my chest. "Got a thing for them tags, don't ya?"

I smiled hesitantly, not sure how to reply. I took a step back and my dress fell back into place and I watched as he immediately leaned down to unlace his boots. It took less than twenty seconds for him to kick off his boots, peel of his socks, and stand back up, his hands on his belt.

"No." I shook my head and swallowed the fear that had built in my gut. It was more and more difficult to remain aloof and in control and at least pretend I felt powerful and sexy. _Just follow his lead,_ I reminded myself. Slowly, I lowered my hands and undid his belt, only to fumble with the clasp of his jeans. "Fuck. Damn things." I glanced up nervously when he chuckled, surprised to see amusement in his dark eyes. "Maybe you should take care of that."

He unclasped his jeans and unzipped them before tugging the jeans a bit lower on his hips. Inhaling sharply, I found myself staring at his cock as it sprang from the confines of his jeans. _He goes Commando!_ I thought, hands shaking. Unable to do anything other than stare, I simply watched, mouth dry and hands trembling, as he shucked his jeans and kicked them to the floor.

A moment later, his black t-shirt landed on the floor next to his jeans.

I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze again. No, I was too focused on his hips – his crotch, to be perfectly honest. Intimidated by his girth, his size, I jerkily whipped my head back to meet his gaze.

He looked gleeful in the most sinful of ways.

"I – uh." I swallowed audibly and wondered if the deer in the headlights look was something he saw when he looked at me. Even though my feet felt rooted to the plush carpet, my body wanted to rocket out of the room and into the safety of anyplace Victor Creed was not. "Hi."

I felt awkward as he grabbed my dress by the hem and tugged it over my head smoothly, not bothering to unzip it. The cool and collected feeling I had earlier was gone completely, leaving an unsure and frightened woman in its place. I stared up at him as his hot gaze raked over the black lace bra and lower to the black cotton panties before he lifted his hands to rest on my sides, just under my breasts.

Inhaling sharply, I silently wondered how the man could entice and terrify me at the very same time. His touch alone made my body sing madly, and yet I couldn't stop completely trembling.

"Come 'mere."

I had no choice in the matter; there was no backing out now. I followed his lead as he reached behind me and unclasped my bra. Even though I wanted to lift my hands and cover myself, I simply held his gaze as he tugged the bra away and the cool air hit my sensitive skin. I sucked in a sharp breath and felt my nipples pucker from the combination of his presence and the cool air.

As he lifted his hands and cupped my breasts for the first time, I silently wondered if the man known by most as Sabretooth was often gentle with the women he fucked. I doubted it, but I appreciated his finesse as he squeezed my breasts and rubbed my nipples with the pad of his thumb expertly. I trembled, the combination of confusion and fear and arousal twisting inside of me like liquid heat.

"Yer scared," he rumbled, making me tremble again. "Afraid I'll hurt you?"

I instinctively glanced down and was rewarded by the sight of his cock jumping the slightest bit at my attention. My eyes widened and I hurriedly met his gaze again and shook my head, hair brushing over my bare shoulders. _Scared doesn__'__t even begin to cover it._

"You ought to be."

It was the only warning I got before he plucked me off of my feet and tossed me onto the bed. My back hit the satin and I jolted as he climbed onto the bed, and then on top of me. He didn't press his weight against me, not in the slightest. No, he had absolutely no problem laying with his legs on either side of me, his dick pressed against my leg, and one hand braced on the bed beside me.

His eyes danced over my form once before he used his free hand to knead my breast. A squeak escaped my lips at the shock of pleasure, wringing a smile from his features. He leaned forward and his body brushed flush against mine as he kissed me.

My mind raced as my hands came up to grip his shoulders, digging into his flesh as I kissed him hungrily. I wanted to lose myself in the sensations, to sink into the bliss that the man offered me. He felt heavy and strong and sinfully good as he lay on top of me, one hand still working at my breasts.

His mouth danced lower, trailing dangerous nibbles to my throat. I groaned aloud when they trailed lower.

"Please," I whispered quietly, pleading with my eyes. His lips hovered over one puffy nipple before his tongue snaked out to taste. An animalistic gleam filled his dark eyes as I raked my hands down his back once, afraid to hurt him. "Please," I asked again, not even fully cognizant of what I wanted from him.

He captured my breast in his mouth and suckled greedily, his tongue and mouth slurping and kissing heatedly. My body twisted and squirmed under him as I tangled my hands in his shaggy hair again, eager to force him to give further attention to my other breast. He complied.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I sank further into the fluffy duvet, tingling from the sensations that he made surge through my body. I ached between my thighs and silently wished that he would direct some portion of his heated attention to the one area of my body he'd left covered.

When his ministrations stopped, I opened my eyes and found myself staring into his amber orbs yet again. There was something that entranced me, and I wasn't quite sure what it was. His gaze danced down a bit and the tags resting against the hollow of my throat seemed to heat several degrees.

I felt him moving as he rolled off of me slightly, one leg pressed between mine and his dick like hot silk against my leg. My fingers twitched, but I wasn't yet ready to touch him. His fingers danced over my skin as they went lower and lower, skimming over my navel to pause just above the band of the plain black panties. My eyes widened as his fingers teased me, dipping just below the soft cloth.

He cupped his hand over me and I thrust against his hand immediately, silently begging me to rub me, to touch me, to tease me with his hand and fingers. Instead, he stared down at me in silent challenge.

I sensed that he wanted submission, so I gave it to him.

"Please."

The panties were instantly tugged down over my hips and tossed aside. He immediately rubbed one finger over my slit lazily, taunting me as he eyed met hungrily. I weakly parted my legs further, offering him better access to my throbbing body. He wasted no time in dipping a finger toward my entrance and swirling it around in the moisture that had already heavily pooled there. A groan escaped my lips as I thrust my hips at him angrily, begging him to slip that finger inside of me so that he could fill the aching emptiness within me.

Instead he trailed his wet finger back up and brushed against my clit gently, teasing and taunting. A hiss of sharp breath escaped my pursed lips as he teased. I whispered pleadings and he obliged by placing his thumb against my clit and rubbing my entrance with another finger. My eyes widened in glee, thighs quivering, as he slowly slid a finger into me up to the first knuckle.

Our grunts of pleasure matched as he teased me with his fingers, slowly stroking me as one finger pumped in and out of me at a maddeningly slow pace. I felt needy and weak at the same time as I grabbed him by the back of his head and forced his lips to meet mine again.

He increased the speed of his ministrations as I thrust myself against his hand, gasping into his mouth as I kissed him hungrily. My tongue ran over his lips, his teeth, and tongue. I explored his mouth hungrily and suckled on his lower lip as he furiously rubbed at my clit.

I felt the orgasm approaching, I felt the build up inside of me. He whispered something against my lips and I turned my head side to side greedily. He rolled back on top of me and stopped rubbing me suddenly, frustrating me.

My thighs parted and I watched, hungry for his touch, as he rubbed his damp hand over the burgeoning length of his cock. He groaned slightly at the touch as he rubbed the slickness he'd produced in my body over his dick as lubrication.

He cupped one hand under my ass and used the other to guide himself to my entrance. I searched his eyes for a moment, struggling to breathe, before I lifted my hips toward him. My heart raced as he sank into me.

And then the pain hit me.

I grimaced and clutched at the sheets as he entered me inch by agonizing inch. His amber eyes narrowed and I saw fury in their depths when he finally stilled himself, my thighs pressed tightly around him.

"Just give me a second," I begged, hoping like hell that my supposed healing factor would kick in.

He drew back slightly before he pumped back inside of me. The pain abated immediately and was replaced with something akin to pleasure. My healing factor seemed to have erased most all of the pain, much to my relief. He rotated his hips in a circular fashion and the friction produced made me mewl in surprise.

I locked my thighs around him and captured his face between my hands as he intentionally kept his pace slow and steady. Kissing him hungrily, I matched him thrust for thrust and greedily sought release. It felt amazing, so much better than I would have ever imagined it would be with him. But, I wanted to come, I wanted to hit that familiar plateau and whatever his dick was doing to me was better than any toy or hand I had ever felt.

"Victor," I gasped his name almost breathlessly. I raked my nails over his back and swallowed a scream as he sank his teeth into the flesh at my throat. He pumped harder and faster and I felt my thighs quiver as I locked my ankles together behind him, desperate to feel him as deeply as possible. "Victor!" I shouted, voice raspy and hoarse.

His teeth pierced my flesh again as he reached between us and pressed his fingers against my clit. The added stimulation was all my hungry body needed to clench around his. My body quaked and shuddered and clutched around him as I came, soaring so high we literally hovered off of the bed a few inches before we dropped back down.

He didn't slow his pace whatsoever as he continued pumping inside of me, a newfound determination in his gaze when he lifted his head. I found myself being shoved up the length of the bed, closer and closer to the headboard. When I lifted my hands and pressed my palms against the smooth oak headboard, he greedily lowered his head and sucked one breast into his mouth.

I screamed at the eruption of pleasure that shook me as he continued to fuck me, slamming his hips against mine so hard that I felt positive I was going to break the headboard. He continued to tease my clit with his fingers, his mouth on my breast, and his dick buried as far in me as he could manage.

He pumped into me harder and harder, the wrinkle of pain mixing with untold pleasure. I neared my second orgasm when he lifted his head and howled, literally howled, like a wild animal at the moon. My hands cracked the oak headboard and I found myself shouting nonsensical pleas as my body erupted around his again, quaking as he followed in my wake.

My body seemed to drain him as he thrust inside of me one last time, shocking me with the feel of something hot emptying inside of me. Legs weak and spent, I unhooked my ankles and let my legs fall useless against the bed.

He carefully rolled off of me and I stared up at the ceiling as he disappeared into the en-suite wordlessly. I glanced up at the headboard, grimaced, and lowered my hands to my sides. My hips and thighs ached, but in a good way. My eyes raked over my own form and I was surprised by the sight of my swollen breasts.

"Here." A warm cloth hit me on the chest and I realized that he must have been fetching it from the bathroom. "Clean yourself up."

I eyed him for a moment, almost ashamed, and reached down between my legs. I grimaced as I dabbed and wiped, the blood and natural lubrication and semen making more of a mess than I would have ever thought possible. I sat up and scooted toward the edge of the bed gingerly and ignored him as I tossed the towel into the wastebasket near the bed; there was no way I was leaving it for a maid.

A shower was needed to erase any traces of what had happened, but I couldn't bear the thought of an even longer walk of shame. So, I climbed off of the bed and bent to retrieve my panties, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. Glancing up, I took notice of the anger etched across his face and forced myself to remain steady.

"Well, you said you were going to finish it." I placed my hands on my hips, all too aware of the fact that I was bare ass naked and probably looked well used. "I guess you're a man of your word."

I bent and picked up my panties, but was unable to tug them on when he yanked them out of my hands and tossed them back onto the floor. Frowning, I let him tug on me and turn me around so that I faced the rumpled bed.

He pointed and I glanced at the drops of blood upon the duvet and met his gaze steadily, nervous and partially humiliated. _God, can__'__t he at least let me walk away with __**some**__ dignity?_

"Why didn't you tell me?" I played dumb and simply stared at him for a long moment, forcing him to growl. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you ain't never been with a man before?"

"It didn't exactly come up in conversation. Besides, what does it matter? I have a healing factor. I'm fine." In fact, other than the awkwardness and confusion, I felt like a brand new woman.

"It ain't – it ain't a matter of being fine!"

Taken aback, I jerked away from him and debated on yanking the blanket off of the bed to cover my nudity. Not sure how to reply to his accusation, I simply stuck with the truth. Nervously, I licked my lips before I spoke. "I've always been scared I'd hurt someone. I was never sure if I'd lose control and – I could snap someone's arm off. If I can do that…" I trailed off and shook my head. "I didn't want to physically hurt a man just by sleeping with him."

To think, I'd stayed away from sex out of fear of hurting someone accidentally, only to discover that I liked it. I liked it a lot. _Never thought he__'__d be the one to show me that little fact_, I thought suddenly, watching his movements dazedly.

He growled as he grabbed the duvet and ripped it off of the bed in one smooth motion. The sheets beneath were rumpled and wrinkled, but were not discolored by any of the blood. Without further warning, he shoved me onto the bed and climbed on top of me. He stopped my questions with his mouth, further distracting me by pressing his hardened length against me.

"Good thing we both got healing factors then, ain't it?"

Unbidden, a smile curled my lips as understanding flooded my system. He was right, of course. I didn't have to worry about hurting him or even him hurting me. We would both survive, we'd heal.

And wouldn't anybody be any the wiser.

There was no further warning as he flipped me over onto my stomach and positioned himself behind me. My fingers dug into the pillows as he dragged my ass higher and shoved me against the headboard. I clutched at the cracked wooden decorative piece and stared over my shoulder in trepidation as he rubbed his dick against my folds from behind.

"Gonna wanna hang on," he warned as he dug his fingers into my hips.

A tattered scream escaped my lips as he plunged into my depths from behind. Before I could even recover, he slid most of the way out and thrust himself back inside. The friction – it was unfathomably amazing and made me quiver.

"More," I whispered, bucking back and forth as he slammed inside me over and over again. "More, Victor!"

The Sabretooth released a growl as he reached under me to fondle my clit, still pumping madly. And I knew it was going to be a long, glorious night.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for any typos. I have a very difficult time editing my own chapters, but when you add in this sort of content… It's kind of hard to focus! Please forgive me for any glaring errors.


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